


Blood is Thicker than Holy Water

by geeraymes



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Mindless Self Indulgence, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - A Little Less Sixteen Candles (Music Video), Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Apocalypse, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Breakfast, Chicago (City), Cuddling & Snuggling, Demonic Possession, Demons, F/M, M/M, Multi, Platonic Soulmates, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Roman Catholicism, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Sparring, Supernatural Elements, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 10:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5160932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geeraymes/pseuds/geeraymes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A probably way too long fanfiction putting together probably way too many band members in one universe that follows the world of the 'A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me' music video by Fall Out Boy. Vampires, werewolves, demons, witches, ghosts, and everything in between, and characters trying to survive through it.</p><p>Follows mostly My Chemical Romance, with appearances from Fall Out Boy, Mindless Self Indulgence, and other cameos from band members new and old. </p><p>I try to update whenever I can, but I'm really busy, but this work has been on my mind for a while, so it'll definitely post eventually.</p><p>-n3rd</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vampires Will Never Hurt You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet an affluant hunting group currently located in Chicago, IL. The gang takes out a large amount of vampiric undead, but the leader, Gerard, has some concerning news that he can only tell to his right-hand man, Ray.

          “Incoming!”

 

          Ray ducks at the sound of Frank’s voice, and closes his eyes as a crossbow bolt flies over his head. It lands into the chest of a screeching vampire in the middle of dark alleyway, amidst an all out brawl between vampires and hunters. The impaled vampire writhes and scratches at the wooden stake that’s sunken into his heart, blood pooling underneath his nails, and hissing as the life finally escapes his undead body. Ray pants heavily and whips his head around, glaring at Frank, who’s already got silver daggers out and in the face of another vampire. He would yell at Frank to be more careful, but he’s got other things on his mind. Like the blood-soaked vampire rushing at him and pinning him to the wall.

 

          She holds Ray against the grungy wall and hisses, baring her sharp teeth at him. Ray always thought that was overrated. Everyone gets it; You’re a vampire. Why do you need to bare your teeth like some kind of dog, some kind of werewolf, he thinks. She laughs at him, though, leaning up and close to him and whispering into his ear.

 

          “You can’t win, little one. You’re doomed. Soon, everyone will--”

 

          Ray’s eyes widen as she stops mid sentence, and he and her look down to see a silver tipped crossbow bolt jutting out from her chest. She looks at him and sees the fear in his eyes, and she laughs again, before falling limp in his arms. Ray pushes her off him, and he looks to see Gerard holding a crossbow aimed.

 

          “Thanks,” Ray says, swallowing nervously.

 

          “No problem. C’mon, man, let’s go.”

 

          They meet up together and stand back to back. Gerard’s always been a good shot with a crossbow, and Ray’s spent a decent amount of time practicing with his silver blade. It’s perfect for him; It’s got a memory foam grip and handguard, and the prettiest leather sheath he’s seen in a long time. They rotate together, almost like a dance, eyes scanning the thin alleyway. While doing so, they talk in hushed tones, casual, perhaps, but with a sense of urgency.

 

          “Where’s Mikey? I don’t see Mikey.”

 

          “At the opening of the alley, making sure no civilians get in. Frank?”

 

          “Pinning a vampire. I think it’s the last one.”

 

          “Seven o’clock!”

 

          Gerard turns to his left with Ray mirroring him, and he cranks his crossbow back, shooting the monster at point blank through the heart. The vampire doesn’t even have time to scream before they drop to the ground. Gerard takes a deep breath and looks over his shoulder and up to Ray. He laughs a little bit and pats Ray’s shoulder, grinning.

 

          “How do you do that, man? You are so good.”

 

          Ray shrugs and checks the scene as Gerard starts to collect his used bolts, and he looks back to Gerard. This group started with nothing but four guys and a desire for change. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, witches, demons. They exist, and the world is starting to notice. Some are benevolent, wanting to preserve the fragility of human life, but a lot want to abuse their power, and to abuse humans.

 

          Frank walks up to Ray with blood soaking in his shirt, and he runs an inked up hand through his hair. He chuckles a bit at the sight of the taller one, and rolls his light eyes.

 

          “If you don’t wanna get hit, stay outta the way.”

 

          “Maybe learn the difference between a vampire and an ally? Maybe.”

 

          Frank laughs more and shakes his head, lightly punching at Ray’s arm. He walks away to talk to Gerard about what to do next, and Gerard takes this as an opportunity to have a meeting. Everyone stands in a circle together, listening to what Gerard has to say.

 

          “Okay, that was ten in one night. Pretty sure that’s our best, but we can do better. Mikey did a great job keeping the fight contained, and Frank had the most kills tonight. Ray, you were spot on with teamwork. Let’s go home, and plan there.”

 

          Mikey’s deep into his phone, texting someone and nods idly as he starts to walk back to the van outside the alley. He’s always connected to someone; Talking to some vendor that sells weapons, or another hunting group, or even civilians that are requesting their services. He slips into the backseat of the car, nose deep into his phone.

 

          Frank opens the trunk of the van, taking a towel and wiping off his weapons before neatly putting them away in size order. He takes everyone’s weapons, cleaning them in a meticulous manner and being even more diligent with putting them away. He closes the trunk and sits in the backseat, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag. He looks over his shoulder to Mikey and offers him a smoke, but Mikey just shakes his head. Frank shrugs, and looks out the window.

 

          Gerard sits in the passenger’s seat, and Ray takes the wheel. As they all drive through the night, Ray looks over to the Eastern horizon and yawns a little bit. They had all adopted the nocturnal schedule of those they were fighting, it just makes everything easier, really. Gerard’s writing, most likely documenting everything that happened tonight. He’s dedicated to his work, that’s for sure. Ray pulls into the old bar that they had taken over as their headquarters, and all of them cooperate on getting the weapons back into the inventory room. As Frank says out loud what they have, Mikey writes them down in a note on his phone.

 

          “Five crossbows, seventy wooden bolts, forty silver-tipped bolts--”

 

          “We’ll get more, then.”

 

          “Twenty silver knives, ten silver swords, six shotguns, seven glocks--”

 

          “Dude, what the fuck happened to the eighth?”

 

          “Uhh…” Frank pauses, and thinks on that for a moment. He chuckles suddenly, and nods to himself. “Broke it. Smashed a head in with it. Fuckin’ good, man.”

 

          “That ‘fucking good’ move is going to cost us to buy another gun.” Mikey rolls his eyes as he pushes his glasses up with one hand, texting with the other. The two of them continue to talk back and forth in the inventory room, while Gerard and Ray go to the their version of a living room. They both sit down, exhausted looking, and just sit in silence for a while. Gerard breaks it.

 

          “I got a tip from an unregistered number.”

 

          Ray looks at him, furrowing his brows. “Isn’t that like, the definition of bait for a trap?” He sits up and studies Gerard, who looks like he’s about to fall asleep right there. Gerard shrugs, and continues on.

 

          “You’d think. But they openly admitted to being vampires. Gave me their location and their numbers, there’s just four of them. I looked into it, and it’s all legit. Don’t know why they’d do that.”

 

          Ray ponders that for a moment, and as he does so, he stretches his arms over his head, yawning. “You think they’re really legit? What did they have to say?”

 

          Gerard sighs heavily and sits up, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks forward, lost in his own contemplation. There’s an intensity in his eyes, the kind that hasn’t seen enough sleep, and the kind that has too much to think about and factor in to any kind of thought. He looks up at Ray and shakes his head.

 

          “Said they wanted to talk to me. We send me, and they send one of theirs. Just a talk.”

 

          Ray shakes his head instantly as he hears the proposition, leaning back. “Nope. Don’t believe that for one second. Why are you so hung up on this, man?”

 

          He gives a dramatic sigh once more and rubs his face in his hands, exhaustion clearly apparent on his face. Gerard’s quiet for a minute, and Ray wonders if he fell asleep on him. It’s entirely possible.

 

          “I dunno.”

 

          Ray hasn’t heard that before.

 

          “I just think… Maybe if we lie to them. Maybe I go ‘alone’, but you’re trailing behind me; You're there if something happens. Maybe they’re legit. What they said, it… It can’t go without being talked about.”

 

          Ray nods, and he thinks about that. What in the world could have been a subject matter that gets Gerard so anxious that he considers meeting up with vampires, though? So Ray tilts his head, expression curious.

 

          “What did they say?”

 

          Gerard pulls his head up to look at Ray, and he holds that eye contact, which just makes Ray more and more nervous. Gerard’s always been known for being a bit dramatic, but with something this serious, Ray can’t help but feel tense in the thick of the silence.

 

          “They said that everyone’s going to die next month.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter one's done! Thank you for reading, chapter two is posted!


	2. The Take Over, The Break's Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter to Blood is Thicker than Holy Water.
> 
> This chapter follows a different hunting group, one comprised of Pete, Patrick, Andy, and Joe. Pete goes on a walk, and meets a new friend.
> 
> -n3rd

          “Day seven since last altercation. This is the longest streak so far, but don’t let that jinx it for me.”

 

          Patrick murmurs notes into the audio recorder, writing formulas and equations for his latest machine. Trying to make a weapon that incapacitates monsters rather than killing them is proving to be easier theorized than executed. He takes a short break and glances up to see Andy and Joe sparring against each other in the tattered and old warehouse.

 

          Patrick sighs. Those two were simultaneously the best and worst suited for this kind of lifestyle. Hunting, and everything. They had known each other since birth, and grew up side by side. The two had decided together to work to make a difference once things started getting shaky, and that’s when Pete and Patrick joined in, too. Things were fine, great even… Until Pete died.

 

          He won’t tell anyone what happened that night. No kind of coaxing or gentle words can bring any ounce of information out from Pete. The most anyone knows is that it all happened during a hunt; Pete got separated from the group, and afterwards, he was gone for two weeks. Nothing more. When he came back, he was practically rabid. It took everyone’s combined efforts of force, wit, and skill to bring him back down, but they could tell that he had changed. Patrick had concocted a blend of Holy Water, animal blood, and garlic to keep Pete’s vampiric urges at bay, but sometimes even that’s not enough.

 

          Pete enters the main room and sulks to the table where Patrick works. He tilts his head as he inspects the gun and written formulas that Pat has scattered across the desk, and he scoffs. He gives a sneer at the self-proclaimed leader, and spits out a snide remark.

 

          “What the hell’s that supposed to do? _Tickle them_?”

 

          Patrick clears his throat, giving an exhausted sigh. He shakes his head, and slides a piece of paper to Pete, showing the main idea for what the gun is supposed to do.

 

          “It has silver grips that shoot out, then sends electrical energy out. Like a high energy taser, so we can investigate on why these guys have been forming a gang.”

 

          “None of that matters!”

 

          Pete slams his hands on the table and shoves the papers. Patrick just puts his hands up and rolls his eyes. Andy and Joe stop sparring and look over to the sudden noise, and now all eyes are on Pete. He digs his short nails into the palms of his hands, jittering his leg in an agitated manner, and he pushes a journal to the ground in a fit of rage.

 

          “What’s more important? Stopping these monsters, or _having **tea** with them_?”

 

          He storms off, and Patrick looks over to Andy and Joe, but the two of them are looking at each other, practically having a conversation with eye contact alone. Patrick sighs tiredly and goes to pick up the pieces of paper from the ground, organizing them. He leans over and grabs the audio recorder, pressing the record button.

 

          “He’s slipping. And I don’t know how to fix it.”

 

* * *

 

 

          “Stupid… They don’t get it…”

 

          Pete sulks along the lamp-lit streets of downtown, stuffing his fists into his jacket’s pockets. The night is dead, and Pete seems to be the only one on the desolate street. At the sound of his phone buzzing, Pete frowns, pulling it out from his back pocket to see who it was. He expects Patrick to be calling him, and raises a brow, slowing to a stop on the sidewalk, as he sees that it’s a text message.

 

          **[Unknown SMS 10:45PM]** sup

 

          Pete looks at the text. He doesn’t recognize the number, the area code is not at all from around here, and the message is so vague, that it could be anyone. He leans against a building and replies, though, frowning.

 

          **[Pete SMS 10:46PM]** sup??? who is this

 

          **[Unknown SMS 10:46PM]** pete, right? the vampire hunter who is a vampire?

 

          Pete looks at the phone in shock, and his posture stiffens. Who the fuck is this, he thinks, and how did they get his number? Pete looks around the streets, and he looks back to his phone. He decides to call the number, and the second they pick up, he’s whispering in an urgent sense, anger slipping around his tone.

 

          “Who the fuck are you and how the fuck did you get my number?”

 

          The voice is soft, with a higher pitch than Pete would normally expect from a voice like that. And they definitely have some sort of filter through their voice, and that only stresses Pete out more. They speak, and seem rather unimpressed with how angry the vampire is, which surprises him. Usually if someone knows that he’s a vampire, they’re at least wary when they know he’s mad, but not this stranger.

 

          “Uh, yeah. You’re definitely Pete, I think.”

 

          “Who. The fuck. Are you.”

 

          “Alright dude, like, phone calls make me _really_ nervous? Can we text.”

 

          “Who the fuck gave you my number?!”

 

          “Your co-worker, can we _**please** _ text, I hate phone calls.”

 

          Pete sighs and hangs up, running a hand through his hair. Someone gave this stranger his number, one of his own team members. He glares down at his phone when he sees that there’s another text from the mystery caller, and he slumps down against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest as he reads and replies.

 

           **[Pete SMS 10:50PM]** ok yeah this is pete, but who is this?????

 

           **[Unknown SMS 10:50PM]** names mikey

 

           **[Pete SMS 10:51PM]** and WHO gave you my number

 

        **[Mikey SMS 10:52PM]** your coworker.

 

           **[Pete SMS 10:52PM]** WHO

 

          He has a feeling he knows who it is, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to admit that Patrick would do such a thing. He and Pete are best friends, through it all, and for him to just give out his number to some stranger who hates phone calls? It’s low on Patrick’s end. Pete sighs deeply and pushes himself off the ground, walking and texting as he goes to find somewhere a little better suited for texting. After all, the night is still young, and who knows what big bad creatures could be lurking in the shadows.

 

          **[Mikey SMS 10:54PM]** one of the short ones.

 

          Pete groans at that. They’re all fucking short, he thinks, and he rolls his neck, cracking several joints without so much as a bat of his lashes. Pete slips into an alleyway, and makes his way down it, hugging shadows and glancing around. He pulls down a fire escape ladder and makes his way up, before finally sitting down on the rooftop. He sees that there’s been more texts, and rolls his eyes.

 

           **[Mikey SMS 10:55PM]** look i just wanna talk

 

          **[Mikey SMS 10:55PM]** im mikey, 23, dude, from jersey, i like beanies and am the self titled secretary of a different hunting group. i heard that you were having some troubles and that i might be able to help.

 

          **[Mikey SMS 10:57PM]** no idea how id do that but whats the worst that happens right?

 

          Pete reads all of it, and he pauses. Well, now he feels like a jerk (Not an uncommon feeling for him). This guy just wants to help, he says, and is much more of an open book once he’s comfortable. Pete kinda laughs at the comment about Mikey admitting that he has no idea how to help, and he smiles.

 

           **[Pete SMS 10:59PM]** alright dude. and i mean technically the worst that happens is i try to kill you.

 

          **[Mikey SMS 11:00PM]** youd have to know where i am for that, right?

 

           **[Pete SMS 11:00PM]** damn, true. whats the secretary of a hunting group do? seems pretty useless

 

          **[Mikey SMS 11:02PM]** first. rude. second. i make sure that everyones stocked with supplies, and that the jobs are legit.

 

           **[Pete SMS 11:03PM]** right. like a nerd.

 

           **[Mikey SMS 11:05PM]** rude.

 

          Pete chuckles and looks around the lamp-lit sky, finding a grin on his face. It’s the first time in a while that he’s felt happy, content with an interaction. Pete pokes around his phone for a while, looking at old texts, before straightening his jaw at a text from Patrick a few days ago. Rereading the words, Pete dials the number quickly and presses the phone to his ear. When Patrick answers, he’s reasonably shocked.

 

          “Pete? What’s wrong, are you alright?”

 

          “Sorry.”

 

          “What? Pete, what are you talking about?”

 

          “I was… Rude. Yeah. And, what you’re doing… Is gonna help get rid of the Dandies for good.”

  
          Patrick’s quiet on the other end for a minute, probably thinking over everything. Patrick's got a habit of that; Thinking into everything like it's the most important thing in the world, even if it's just a simple apology. Pete gets it, it's just one of the things that makes Patrick him. When he speaks, Pete can't help but sigh out in relief.

 

          “They're supposed to have a raid tomorrow night at Randolph and Wabash. We'll get one of them, alright?"

 

          Pete nods, thinking through the city's landscape. They're hitting downtown; That's risky, and they have to be aware of that. Pete grinds his teeth against each other, the fangs still feeling foreign against all the other teeth. 

 

          “Right. We'll have a meeting before we go."

 

          “Alright. And one more thing?"

 

          “Yeah?"

 

          “Thanks Pete."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! This chapter was way harder for me to write for some reason? Maybe it's because I'm super excited for Chapter Three, titled Issues!
> 
> I'm thinking to write some tiny drabbles in between chapters, showing non-plot relative snippets of the characters lives. Things like breakfast with people, or a sparring session between two characters, or a few characters gossiping. 
> 
> What do you guys think?


	3. In Other News: Weekend Pancake Report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Other News! Any chapter starting with those three words signifies that it's like the filler episode of a TV show. No major plot development, but a look into the character's lives besides the plot. A nice breather, and usually comedic!
> 
> Today's chapter: Breakfast with MCR.

          It's an early "morning" for Ray.

 

          In actuality, the sun's just set, but everyone's still asleep. What with the whole nocturnal thing, after all. Regardless, he hums to the latest song that's decided to stick in his head, pulling his hair back into a bun as he goes into the fridge. Eggs, milk, cheese, butter, bacon, vegetables... Ray just takes everything that he thinks is good, setting down the ingredients on the counter. He turns and gets a large pot of coffee going, before pulling out syrup, flour, spices and other various items. He looks at all the raw food and sighs a little, before cracking his knuckles and starting with it all.

 

          By the time Frank wakes up and drags himself into the kitchen, breakfast is ready. A mountain of pancakes sits in the center, with syrup and butter at its side. Bacon, eggs, and a vegetable skillet sit next to each other, savory scents wafting through the air. Coffee, sugar, creamers and syrups are over in the corner, and milk and orange juice sit out of the fridge. Plates, silverware, cups and mugs are all set up, three of everything. 

 

          Ray's already doing dishes and cleaning up everything, and Frank yawns, looking around.

 

          "Dude, the fuck?"

 

          Ray smiles, looking over his shoulder and shrugging. "You guys never feed yourselves, I might as well."

 

          At this point, Mikey and Gerard come in, their hair flying in every which way. Both their eyes light up at the sight of it all as if it's Christmas morning, and Mikey actually slides his phone shut to really soak in everything. Frank begins to pile things onto a plate, beginning with the bacon. Gerard runs a hand through his hair, breaking into a laugh as he looks at Ray.

 

          "Toro, what is this!"

 

          He sighs, shaking his head. "It's breakfast; All of you eat."

 

          Mikey's got a mouth full of pancakes, washing it down with a glass of orange juice. Of course by now, he's looking at his phone with his bleary eyes, reading a text that is probably very important. He speaks, yawning to start the sentence off.

 

          "Don't _you_ gotta eat?"

 

          It was an off-hand question on Mikey's part, and he's already off the conversation once his phone buzzes once more. Frank chugs down half a cup of coffee and belches to himself, wasting no time in excusing himself before he continues eating. But Gerard, on the other and, takes his eyes away from the pancake mountain and looks at Ray. Surely, he couldn't have made all this food and then not eaten any of it? Ray looks at Mikey for a second, but shifts his gaze to Gerard when he sees that the older brother is more interested in the answer than the younger is.

 

          "I ate beforehand, then felt bad that I didn't make anything for you guys."

 

          Gerard nods, holding his plate and leaning against the counter with Ray as he eats, nodding. He portions himself a nice forkful of eggs and vegetable skillet together and takes a bite. Hazel eyes bug out and Gerard lurches forward, dragging his gaze up to Ray who, at first, looks concerned. Until Gerard speaks.

 

          "Holy _**fuck**_ , Toro, where'd you learn to cook?"

 

          Frank laughs. "He cooks like my mom!"

 

          Ray gives an almost glare to Frank. He thinks for a second, then decides to go with, "You know what, I'm taking that as a compliment, your mother is wonderful." He looks at Gerard and grins, popping his eyebrows. "I took a few classes."

 

          "Ray's like. Our dad." Mikey says, partially talking, eating and texting. How he manages to focus on all at once is both a mystery and a gift.

 

          "Yeah, if your dad kills every scumbag vampire he gets his hands on, sure." Frank mutters, biting into a particularly crunchy piece of bacon. He looks at the time and squints, before shoveling the rest of the food into his mouth, chugging his drinks, and standing. Frank drops his plate in the sink and briskly walks off to his room, to which he will no doubt start his morning training. He yells out a, "Thanks for that, Toro!" and shuts his door.

 

          Mikey finishes most all his food, next, save for the vegetables. When he stands up and tries to casually stride over to the trash can to scrape out the veggies, Gerard looks at him and shoots a death glare. The two brothers glare at each other, Mikey poised to toss out the food.

 

          "Eat your goddamned vegetables, Mikey."

 

          To that command, the younger scrapes the food into the trash in one fell swoop, quickly placing the plate on the table and almost running out of the kitchen. He's too scared of Gerard pursuing him, that he doesn't say thank you. Gerard sighs heavily, looking at the mess before him and Ray.

 

          "Sorry about him."

 

          Ray laughs. "Why?"

 

          "I dunno, I'm responsible for him?" Gerard shrugs and puts his plate down, starting to help clean up everything. Ray pushes himself off the counter's edge, joining Gerard in taking dirty dishes while Gerard starts storing the leftovers. A silent plan of action that doesn't even need a discussion, the same kind of natural flow they have together in any situation. Ray places the dishes in the sink, and Gerard pauses as he opens the fridge.

 

          "Hey, uh, thanks, Ray. This was nice."

 

          "It's not something to idolize me for, man, it's just pancakes."

 

          "No, no, I know that but like. You're good, man, you keep us in check with things we forget to think about. Things _I_   forget to think about. And I, personally, really appreciate this."

 

          Ray turns to look at Gerard, and they share that look for a moment or two. Slowly, Ray nods, understanding what Gerard's saying. He gives a sheepish smile, which quickly turns into a nearly devilish smirk. He grabs a stray mug on the table, eyebrows raised as he speaks in a sly tone that's unlike his usual.

 

          "Guess it just means you owe me."

 

          Gerard eyes the suddenly coy devil before him, exhaling through his nose in a soft laugh. He rolls his eyes and nods along with it, putting the food in the fridge carefully as to make sure nothing falls over. Gerard shakes his head, grinning.

 

          "Right. _Totally_."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a little breather, and honestly something I really really wanted to write. Hope you guys liked it!!
> 
> Working on the ACTUAL Chapter Three, now, I swear!


	4. Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard goes to talk to a sketchy vampire, and he learns about a mini-apocalypse.

               “ Do you trust me? ”

 

               Ray almost gives Gerard a glare at those words.  Because whenever Gerard says something along those lines,  he’s either about to do something stupid,  or he’s already done it.  Ray straps his knife to his waist,  knowing that whatever Gerard does,  he’ll join to keep the other safe.  They creep down the hall,  and both glance around the corner of the doorway into the bar’s main floor for a moment.  When Ray sees that neither Mikey or Frank are there,  he strides out with an irritated and nervous energy.  Gerard follows,  waiting for Ray’s answer.

 

               They shouldn’t be doing this.  Trusting four vampires that are known to play with their food before eating them?  Sending Gerard “alone” into a mess like that?  It has got to be a trap,  Ray thinks,  but Gerard is insistent.  The two hunters make their way down through the streets,  yellow lights making the fog more visible than usual.  A few blocks into their walk,  Gerard stops Ray’s stride,  putting a hand on his shoulder.  It’s more gentle than he’s done before,  which causes Ray to turn quickly.

 

               “ Ray. Do you trust me? ”

 

               Ray  pauses and then gives a sigh.  Of course he trusts Gerard,  he’s trusted Gerard since the moment he met him.  Ray nods,  glancing around the city streets.  He sees a gang of suspicious folks,  but they’re not paying any mind to the pair.  Back to Gerard.

 

               “ Yes.  I do. ”

 

               Gerard nods,  running his palm over his own hand in a nervous manner.  He pats Ray's shoulder,  encouraging him,  assuring him with the fact that he'll be alright.  Of course,  he can't promise that whole heartedly,  and he knows that.  But the sentiment’s there.  That's what counts.  He slowly walks in front of Ray,  still watching the other to make sure he's alright,  and then steps briskly down the street.  

 

               “ I'll lead,  you shadow from two blocks behind me,  alright?  Really let them think I'm alone. ”

 

               Ray watches as he goes,  and Ray pulls out a pack of cigarettes to busy himself with getting a smoke as he waits for Gerard to leave.  He's never been much of a smoker,  only on occasions or when he's tense,  and now's the time to be tense.  Regardless,  he's always been picky with his tobacco.  If he's going to breathe in harsh chemicals,  he wants them at least to be genuine.  Ray takes a deep drag once lit,  and lets the drug sit and settle into the bottom of his lungs.  Gerard's tiny in his line of vision now,  so with an exhale of smoke,  Ray walks forwards.

 

               He's got a bad feeling about this.

 

* * *

 

 

               So,  he's nervous too.  As well he should be.  Gerard walks briskly through the streets,  seeing the surrounding city get more and more desolate as he's going along.  He's supposed to rendezvous with only one of the mentioned vampires at the alley way of an old punk bar,  but he's got a silver dagger under his shirt just in case anything goes further South than he's expecting.  He spots the bar and turns into the alley,  hand gravitating towards his concealed dagger. 

 

               “ You're late. "

 

               It's a girl that says it.  As Gerard steps forward,  she mirrors him,  stepping into the light.  She’s a young-looking girl,  dark hair and smokey eye makeup.  Her lips are the most saturated thing about her,  bright red painted petals on a pale face.  She looks at his hand and his waist.  She laughs.

 

               “ Calm down,  alright?  I just ate. ”

 

               That doesn’t really reassure him.  Gerard crosses his arms and continues to study the girl.  Her youthful appearance doesn’t fool him any,  she very well could be hundreds of years old,  knowing vampires.  There is something about her,  though.  How calm she looks,  how relaxed.  Maybe he should relax a little bit too.  After all,  if she’s relaxed,  then he has nothing to worry about.  And maybe she is as young as she looks;  She probably has really little experience with stuff like this.  Gerard catches the dangerous train of thoughts,  and he frowns.

 

               “ Don’t fuckin’ try to use your glamour on me.  I’m not an idiot. ”

 

               She laughs at that,  nose crinkling up as she shakes her head at the hunter.  ‘ _ Oh,  he’s great’, _  she thinks.  The girl carefully drags her index finger across the underneath of her bottom waterline,  seemingly correcting the course of the smokey eye liner.  She looks down at her finger for a moment,  smiling at the makeup stain,  then looks back to the leader of the hunting group.

 

               “ I’m Lindsey.  You’re Gerard.  Everyone’s going to die next month. ”

 

               Gerard sets his jaw and swallows,  his mouth feeling dry at the words.  Right.  The reason why he’s here.  Lindsey says it in such a declarative manner,  it’s unsettling how sure she is of herself.  Gerard sniffs and nods his head,  prompting his question.

 

               “ Yeah, alright.  The fuck does that mean?  And why are you telling me this? ”

 

               Lindsey leans against the wall of the alley way,  pouting her lips as she pulls a cigarette from her plaid skirt’s waistline.  She holds the stick between her lips and threads her fingers through her hair,  specifically at the base of one of her pigtails.  She pulls a match from her hair and strikes it against the stone wall, and lights the cigarette quietly.  She ignores Gerard’s strange looks,  and takes a drag,  speaking with an exhale.

 

               “ We’re telling you because my coven actually likes you guys.  You get rid of the jerk vampires,  and you help keep balance.  We respect that,  Gerard,  we’ve always respected hunters like you throughout the ages. ”

 

               Gerard watches as she pulls the various items from even more various parts of her body.  He can hear the club music booming from inside of the club;  A loud and gritty industrial beat with angry guitar riffs and electronic pulses.  The words sung are too muffled to figure out,  but he wants to focus on Lindsey more anyways.  He listens as she continues.

 

               “ Every two hundred years,  there’s something called a Blood Moon that happens.  A full moon triggers werewolf outbreaks,  right?  But what a Blood Moon does is a little bit different.  See,  you know how werewolves completely lose it during a full moon?  Imagine that, okay.  But with every demonic creature.  Werewolves,  vampires,  demons.  They all completely lose it,  okay,  and go on this killing rampage. 

 

               “ It’s not a pretty sight.  And I heard a rumor that a young vampire was trying to gather an army of both vampires and werewolves just to worsen this night.  We’re talking something that makes the damage from the Chicago fire look like a campfire party. ”

 

               He can’t really find the words to respond to that right away.  Gerard just stares at her,  the horror on his face slowly taking over his whole body language as she continues.  He finally shakes his head,  hands going to his pockets and taking a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with a cheap lighter.  Lindsey gives him his time,  halfway through her own cigarette by now.  Full moons are hard enough in the city;  Werewolves are nasty business,  even the more docile ones.  But demons and vampires on top of it?  And someone playing ring leader to rally up chaos?  Gerard looks towards the opening of the alleyway,  back out to the streets of the city.  He knows Ray is close by,  and he looks back to Lindsey.

 

               “ Have you seen it before? ”

 

               She lifts her gaze to him and studies him.  He’s not like most hunters;  He’ll listen to negotiation,  for one thing.  But there’s more to him.  The way he handles himself,  and how he keeps himself poised even when in a position of a potential threat.  Lindsey clicks her tongue against the back of her top teeth a few times and nods,  sighing smoke out from her nose.

 

               “ Yeah.  I was there. ”

 

               He looks at her,  and raises a brow.  “ . . .  And? ”

 

               She shouldn’t tell him.  She shouldn’t just start talking about a past that only one other soul knows about.  But again,  there’s something about Gerard,  something that makes Lindsey trust him.  She shrugs nervously,  raising her brows.

 

               “ I was only just changed.  Maybe for a few months?  And like,  I didn’t have a sire,  she died a few weeks after she changed me.  I was still in Venice at the time,  I had no idea what was going on, and like . . .  I just  _ lost  _ it.  I had no idea what was happening,  why I was doing what I was doing.  And I **hated** myself,  but I kept doing it,  because a part of me loved it. ”

 

               Lindsey shakes her head,  still remembering and feeling that fear and carnal lust for blood,  worse than she had ever felt before.  Her gaze seems distant,  and it is.  Gerard gives her time to sit with the memories.  He won’t be one to pry at her,  especially when she looks to be in pain.  Her lips tilt upwards to the beginnings a smile,  one of gratitude,  and she directs that smile to Gerard. She drags her finger underneath her water line again,  blinking as she looks down at the makeup stains again.

 

               “ There’s no way to stop it,  if you’re wondering.  My coven has made a safe,  more like an armored cell,  though.  We’re going to quarantine ourselves. ”

 

               Gerard nods again.  So they’re just going to have to stock up and prepare for the worst,  it seems.  He’s still nodding,  mapping everything out in his head.  The supplies,  the civilians in question,  how many vampires are confirmed throughout the city,  if there are other hunting groups that need to be informed.  He’s lost in his own thoughts,  so much so that he’s shocked when a vampire bursts out from the club.

 

               “ Bitch! ”

 

               He’s yelling at Lindsey,  and pushes her further into the alleyway.  He’s fast,  and Gerard’s caught off guard.  He pushes Gerard into the wall and they struggle against each other,  Gerard pulling his head as far back into the wall as he can allow.  He can’t go for his knife,  lest his neck turn into a nice dinner for this guy.  They’re both yelling,  cursing,  both frantic.

 

               The vampire’s attempts stop short as Gerard sees a knife protruding from the other’s neck.  He knows that knife,  and tears his gaze away and pushes the vampire to Ray for him to finish the job.  It’s bloody and he can hear it;  Gerard never knew how Ray was such an expert at decapitation,  but he is, and he’s efficient.  They share a glance with each other,  both of them scared for what just happened,  but Ray turns to Lindsey.

 

               “ She rigged it! ”

 

               Gerard’s eyes widen and he scrambles in between Ray and Lindsey,  who’s still getting herself up.  It all happened so fast,  not even thirty seconds.  Ray’s got a murderous look in his eyes,  and he frowns even more when Gerard puts himself in danger.

 

               “ Ray,  stop!  She had nothing to do with it,  ‘kay?  Seriously,  she’s good. ”

 

               “ Good?!  One of her goons almost-- ”

 

               “ Ray!  **Trust me** ! ”

 

               And he stops at that.  Ray clenches his jaw and fists and heaves a slow and forced breath.  Lindsey’s looking at him from behind Gerard,  and she raises an eyebrow at him as she looks at Gerard in front of her,  then back to Ray in an even more incredulous manner.  He shakes his head at her,  then sheathes his knife.

 

               “ Fine.  But we’re leaving.  Now. ”

 

               Gerard can agree with that.  One near-death experience is all he wants in a night.  He looks back to Lindsey,  though.  He still feels that pull towards her,  that instinctive desire to want to help her,  to want to know her.  He looks down at the ground and sees his cigarette that he had dropped during the fight.  He steps the embers out,  meeting hazel eyes with brown.

 

               “ Thank you. You saved a lot of people by telling us this. ”

 

               She smirks and rolls her eyes.  “ I know.  Go home,  Gee,  you’ve got a lot to talk about. ”

 

               He cracks a grin at her and nods,  before walking away with Ray.  Ray does not look happy on any account.  It’s a strange sight for Gerard,  and he scratches the back of his head as he walks with the other.  The silence builds between them like a rubber band getting pulled at,  until one of them snaps.

 

               “ You almost _died_. ”

 

               Gerard looks over at Ray and frowns,  but mostly out of sadness.  He pats Ray’s shoulder in a caring way,  sighing.  Yeah, that’s true.  He always figured that it’s just part of the job risks,  though.  He drops his hand,  and ends up nudging his own arm against Ray’s,  smiling. 

 

               “ Yeah,  dude.  And you saved me.  My fuckin’ hero. ”

 

               Ray looks over at Gerard and he can’t help but smile.  He holds back a soft laugh as they walk together down the streets.  There’s going to be a huge meeting at the bar tonight,  no doubt.  And before all of that,  he’s glad that he can share these moments with Gerard.  He shrugs,  still grinning.

  
               “ Ah,  shut up,  dude. ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, this took way too long! With a new job, tons of family changes, and just /life/, I totally had to put this on the back burner! Thank you for reading and sticking with it, I'm truly grateful for everyone who's following! 
> 
> Next chapter, "20 Dollar Nose Bleed", we follow FOB on a hunt, along with a friend!


	5. 20 Dollar Nose Bleed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hunt in Jeweler's Row, a new friend for FOB, and snarky comments all throughout!

          “ Mikey, where ya goin'? ”

 

          Mikey pauses in his stride,  sighing in an irritable way as he's caught by his big brother.  He turns around and sees Ray with him.  He glares at Gerard from behind his thin,  rectangular glasses.  Mikey adjusts the strap on his backpack,  and shrugs.

 

          “ Out. ”

 

          “ Out? ” Ray asks.

 

          “ Pretty sure I didn't stutter. ”

 

          “ Okay, ” Gerard steps in at this point,  literally stepping towards Mikey.  He frowns when he sees the younger sibling step backwards slowly,  and he shakes his head.  “ C'mon,  Mikey.  What's goin' on?  Where are you going that's so important,  you can't tell us? ”

 

          He frowns more at Gerard’s plea.  He’s so high and mighty,  thinking that he’s better just because he thought of the hunting group first.  It was Mikey’s idea to front as a religious Bible study to reduce suspicion from demonic beings.  It’s Mikey who gets the hunts booked,  and who makes sure that everyone has everything they need.  But who cares about that,  right?  To Gerard,  Mikey’s still just the kid brother.  They’re not good thoughts to dwell on,  but he’s dwelling regardless.  Mikey rolls his eyes.

 

          “ Look,  you and Ray get to sneak out together.  I’m seeing a friend.  I’ll be back before dawn.  Bye. ”

 

          And he turns to walk away before either of them can raise a fight.  He hears Ray talk in a hushed tone,  probably stopping Gerard.

 

          “ Let him go,  he’ll be safe. ”

 

          “ I hope you’re right. ”

 

          That pisses Mikey off more,  somehow.  He slams the door as he leaves.

 

* * *

 

 

          Patrick sighs.  A heist in Jeweler’s Row,  that can’t mean anything good.  He adjusts stakes to his belt,  careful with each weapon that passes through his palms.  He looks over to Andy and Joe.

 

          “ Two katanas?  You sure you’re ready for that? ”

 

          Andy nods at Joe’s question, fastening a full length katana to his back.  The other, smaller by about two thirds, sits in a sheath at his hip. “ C’mon, I’m nearly ambidextrous at this point.  If it doesn’t work, I’ll just drop the little one. I’ll be fine. ”

 

          Joe inspects the set up on his back and hip and nods slowly,  as if he still disagrees.  He slips his guns onto his own hip holsters. It kinda makes him feel like a cowboy and at a thought like that,  he smirks.  He glances to Patrick, and raises a brow.

 

          “ Where’s Pe-- ”

 

          He stops himself when he sees Pete enter the main warehouse’s room,  with a priest following.  The priest excuses himself to leave,  and does so as quiet as a church mouse.  Pete looks between everyone.  He feels better,  for sure,  and checks his phone before slipping it into his back pocket.  He smirks,  flashing a fang.

 

          “ Let’s fuckin’ go. ”

 

          Pat sees a familiar glint in Pete’s eyes.  A kind that was nearly eternal and a burning flame before he died,  but now barely a burning ember that flares if Patrick’s lucky.  He feels safe when he sees the smile,  like things are going to be alright like they were before.  Pete catches Patrick’s gaze,  and his smile only widens.  Patrick clears his throat,  tearing his gaze away and nodding.

 

          “ Right.  Let’s go. ”

 

* * *

 

          It’s busy in Jeweler’s Row tonight.  Patrick doesn’t expect any less;  Downtown on a Friday night?  What’s busier?  The crew drives in,  Andy at the wheel.  He turns away from the high risk area and searches around,  seemingly aimlessly.  Pete is the first to notice.

 

          “ Dude,  what the hell are you doing? ”

 

          “ You want the car busted up like last time?  I’m looking for a garage. ”

 

          “ A garage?! ”

 

          Joe nods in agreement.  “ Good idea,  I’d rather pay twenty dollars than how much we spent last time on the repairs. ”  Patrick shrugs in agreement.  He can’t argue with that solid logic.  They pull up to a garage and take their ticket,  and Andy parks the car on the fourth floor.  He looks between everyone as he fastens his swords onto his back once more.

 

          “ Fourth floor,  because there are four of us,  right? ”

 

          Joe grins at Andy,  and Andy grins back.  Patrick’s setting up his high-powered taser,  glancing at Pete for a moment before he adjusts his hat properly.  It’s a silly little hat,  one he got at a truck stop on the way into the city years ago.  But he loves it nevertheless,  and likes to wear it to hunts.  Pete rolls his eyes,  giving a small smirk at Patrick,  before leading the group out of the garage.  It’s eerily quiet in the cemented halls,  and Pete has no affection for what’s about to go down.

 

          They’re not known for subtlety.  Geared up in all of their weapons,  civilians flee from them in hushed and worried whispers as they stalk down the streets of the busy city by the lake.  They pay no mind.  This is their home,  their turf,  and they aren’t going to let any monster take control of their city.  Pete sees the mass of vampires,  and he grits his teeth.  Their holier than thou demeanor,  the way they dress like they’re better than everyone else.  He sees a mink fur scarf draped over one,  and he feels himself shake with rage.  The four stop in front of them all,  and Patrick speaks,  the voice of the team.

 

          “ Give it up,  no civilians are getting hurt tonight! ”

 

          Pete looks over to Patrick at the statement.   _ That’s  _ his plan of offense?  They’re in for more trouble than they can handle,  if that’s the case.  He looks over to the leader of the vampires,  and he instinctively snarls.  He spits out the words before Patrick can stop him.

 

          “ You’re fucked,  Beckett! ” 

 

          He laughs at Pete.  He had expected them to take the bait,  but not so blatantly.  William adjusts his white glove that sits upon his hand,  and he leans over to one of his goons,  whispering softly.  The side of his lip quirks up into a grin as he gazes at Pete all the while,  and the henchman nods.  William steps back,  and smiles as he sees Pete step forward.  Always the passionate one,  William’s admired that about Pete for a while now.  His lead henchman looks over to him in anticipation.  William rolls his wrist lazily,  gesturing that they may proceed.

 

          It happens faster than the hunters expect.

 

          Luckily,  Pete grabs some of the slack by jumping in front of his friends with vampiric speed.  He hits and blocks the way from the vampires to get at his friends,  giving his allies precious seconds to prepare and get their weapons ready.  Joe slips on silver knuckles with holy scripture inscribed on the metal,  and Andy unsheathes his two katanas.  Patrick fumbles to set up his taser,  stepping backwards from the altercation as he does so.

 

          Joe runs straight into the thick of it all,  swinging punches and elbows at anything with fangs and a bowler hat.  There’s a stinging sensation in his knuckles, but that he ignores it.  The satisfaction of seeing vampire flesh burning at his very touch is worth the pain,  especially since his hands go numb after a while.

 

          Andy takes the midrange area,  which is just as dangerous.  He holds up with two swords pretty well,  using the shorter one to deflect attacks on himself,  and the longer katana to slice and dice.  The silver blades do wonders on the undead,  but he finds himself pressing backwards just at the sheer number of dandies attacking him.  He looks over to Joe,  and shouts to him.

 

          “ How you holding up? ”

 

          Joe laughs,  but it’s a bitter laugh.  He shouts back to Andy as he swings a solid right hook into an enemy’s jaw, searing the flesh off.  “ Let’s talk later, eh? ”

 

          Andy doesn’t argue with that.

 

          Pete’s become a fighting machine.  His enhanced strength still surprises him at times.  Like when he grabs someone and shoves them against a window,  and then the window shatters.  Diamonds and broken glass sprawl out against the sidewalk,  and Pete sees a thick silver necklace lying on the ground as he pins the other vampire.  He grabs the toxic metal into his hands and wraps the deadly chain around the other’s neck.  They scream and writhe as he strangles and burns their throat.  Pete grits his teeth and continues to grip at the silver,  even as it burns his own flesh.  Once they go limp and lifeless,  Pete drops the silver and curses to himself,  only to go back into fray of the fight.  Right now,  pain is a text message and Pete’s a phone on silent.

 

          Patrick’s keeping everything at bay.  He doesn’t want anything to get past Washington or Monroe street,  and all the mayhem should be kept on Wabash.  The high energy taser seems to be working just as well as he had hoped it would;  One accurate hit,  and a vampire’s out for the count.  He sees Beckett turn into an alleyway,  and he glances at Pete.  Patrick debates on whether or not to inform Pete.  He decides that he’d rather have Pete get rid of a gang than a gang lord,  and swallows the information down his throat.  Pete won’t like that,  but then again,  Pete doesn’t have to know that Patrick saw William escape.  And this way,  the city will be safer,  if at least for the night.

 

          Joe groans as he pulls out two glocks,  cocking them with yet another tired groan.  ‘  _ They don’t stop coming ’ _ ,  he thinks,  ‘  _ it’s an endless fight ’ _ .  He shoots and looks around the area,  brows furrowed.  Sweat starts to perspire from his skin,  and he looks over to Patrick.

 

          “ Hey,  do we got a plan here? ”

 

          Patrick looks back at Joe.  Oh god,  he looks terrible.  Patrick looks at Andy,  who looks no better,  and then at Pete.  Pete’s either bleeding from his nose or has someone else’s blood on him.  Either way,  he looks like shit.  Patrick feels anxiety start to gnaw at his insides,  and then a terror.  He shoots at a vampire and holds the electrical pulse for longer than needed,  before going back to Joe.

 

          “ U-uhh…  Don’t stop? ”

 

          “ Are you fucking kidding me?! ”  It’s Pete who shouts,  which makes Patrick wince.  Pete pants heavily as he shoves a vampire off of him,  and he hisses.  Joe’s right;  They can’t take on this many vampires.  Pete sees a dandy run at him at full speed,  and braces himself for the impact.  But before he comes in contact with them,  a silver-tipped wooden stake flies past him and impales the dandy in the heart.  The vampire falls instantly,  and Pete whips around to see the source of the stake.

 

          A young man with thin rectangular black and white glasses holds a compact crossbow and jacks it back with another stake at the ready.  He passes Pete,  looks him up and down,  and gives a sleepy nod.

 

          “ Sup,  dude. ”

 

          And just like that,  he’s back to shooting.  His accuracy is deadly,  better than Patrick’s even,  and he doesn’t even flinch at the sight of the carnage he’s creating.  It’s like he’s on autopilot,  and even as the others still power through and fight the thinning numbers of undead,  Pete’s gaze stays locked on the stranger.

 

          The five of them eventually stand in the wreckage of the fight,  and all eyes are on the stranger,  who seems to not care.  He gathers his stakes from the corpses of the dead,  counting each one with a particularity to his steps.  He finally looks up at them all,  and his eyes fall onto Patrick.

 

          “ Sup. ”

 

          Patrick doesn’t seem phased.  He smiles and nods to the stranger,  to Pete’s surprise,  and speaks to the other.

 

          “ Thanks for coming,  I didn’t think you’d make it. ”

 

          The other shrugs.  “ I was late.  Sorry. ”

 

          Andy and Joe are back together, conversing with each other quietly and checking each other’s lacerations.  Joe seems to have gotten scratched across the torso.  He insists that he’s fine. Andy insists that they look at it at home.  Pete looks between Patrick and the stranger,  and raises a brow.

 

          “ Mind telling me who you are? ”  His tone comes off more rude than he intended.  He hopes the other doesn’t take offense. 

 

          He shrugs again.  Does he always look like he’s half-asleep?  He pulls out his phone and sends a text to someone.  Pete’s phone vibrates, and he squints down at the message.

 

**[Mikey SMS 9:56PM]** sup dude

 

          Pete looks back up to the other,  and he raises a brow.  “ You’re a hunter?  I thought you were just a secretary. ”

 

          “ Comments like that make me wish I’d’ve just gone to the Bulls game. ”  Mikey mutters in a snarky tone under his breath.  Pete chuckles at that,  and then Patrick interjects between the two of them.

 

          “ Mikey’s from a hunting group that originated on the East Coast,  but they moved for a new member to be recruited. ”

 

          “ Which didn’t work out. ”  Mikey says in a harsher tone than anything he’s said so far.  He clears his throat,  and his tone becomes softer once again.  “ But we were already here,  so we decided to stay and help out. ”

 

          Pete nods.  He looks around between all of his teammates,  the carnage,  and Mikey.  Mikey’s on his phone,  texting someone.  Pete opens his mouth to speak,  but Mikey speaks over him.

 

          “ You guys should probably head out,  I’ve got some guys to get rid of this mess before sunrise. ”

 

          Patrick nods.  “ Did you need a ride? ”

 

          Mikey shakes his head.  “ Nah,  but someone to come with me back to my place would be nice. ”

 

          “ I can take you. ”  Pete offers right off the gun,  and Patrick looks at him curiously.  Pete shrugs it off at Patrick,  continuing in a more casual tone.  “ I mean,  everyone else is tired and wounded.  I’m still fine. ”

 

          Nobody protests to that.  The group has a small meeting about what to stock up on in the future,  and what to do if Pete’s not back before sunrise.  Mikey stands on the outskirts,  his head in his phone.  The team breaks,  and Pete takes his separate way from the others,  walking with Mikey.

 

          He’s not the most chatty guy.  They get onto the train together,  and they’re quiet for a while.  Mikey glances over to Pete’s hands,  and notices burn marks all over them.  He nods to them with his head.

 

          “ How’d that happen? ”

 

          Pete looks at his own hands.  He swallows. 

 

          “ Silver chain. ”

 

          “ Like how?  Was someone strangling you,  or something? ”

 

          Pete clears his throat.  “ I was strangling someone. ”

 

          Mikey looks at him for a moment,  eyes set on the scarring that starts to form on Pete’s palms already.  Pete can’t read what his expression means,  and before he can figure it out,  Mikey looks up at the train route map.  “ The next stop is mine. ”  He says quietly.  He stands up on the rocking train,  hardly swaying as he stands near the sliding doors.  Pete follows,  and they walk in silence once more down the streets.

 

          There’s a slight drizzle to the pre-dawn night.  Pete’s never minded rain,  but he notices Mikey pull his collar up to shield his neck.  Pete doesn’t comment on it,  and continues to follow him.  Everywhere aches,  and he really just wants to go into his coffin and stay there,  but he promised to take Mikey home.  Mikey speaks,  and Pete looks over at him.

 

          “ You’re better than you give yourself credit for. ”

 

          “ What? ”

 

          “ Like…  I feel like you think that you’re this terrible monster of a dude,  but like…  You  just saved literally a ton of people. ”

 

          Pete stares at Mikey.  This stranger,  this dude that Pete’s only known for a few days,  is telling him that he’s a good person.  He’s calling Pete out on thinking lowly of himself,  and his assumptions are as accurate as his crossbow aim.  Pete looks forward again,  and he shakes his head.

 

          “ I have hurt people.  I  _ am  _ a monster. ”

 

          Mikey scoffs from the back of his throat.  “ Dude,  the tragic angle only works for idiots.  Don’t throw away your fire for to look like a martyr.  Keep fighting,  okay?  We need every fighter we can get lately,  even vampires. ”

 

          They turn a corner,  and Pete stuffs his hands into his pockets.  He raises a brow and thinks about that for a moment.  “ Wait,  what do you mean? ”

 

          “ On what? ”  Mikey sounds casual.

 

          “ ‘We need every fighter we can get lately.’  What does that mean? ”

 

          Mikey turns to face Pete,  standing in front of an old bar that Pete had thought shut down.  He shrugs again.  ‘  _ How can he be so casual and chill about every single thing he encounters? _ ’,  Pete thinks.  Mikey jerks his head subtly towards the building.

 

          “ This is my stop.  I’ll text you. ”

 

          And before Pete can yell at Mikey to say that that’s not fair,  the taller and more experienced hunter slips into the bar without a single wave goodbye.  He leaves Pete at the door in the rain,  only left to wonder what he meant by those cryptic words.  

 

          At least,  until he texts him.

 

* * *

 

          Mikey quietly steps through the floor of the bar,  gaze shifting from left to right as he walks.  He can make it if he just can be quick enough.  Besides,  the others are probably already asle--

 

          “ Mikey? ”

 

          He stops in his tracks at the sound of Gerard’s voice.  Mikey turns around to see that Gerard had been sitting in one of the booths,  hidden from his view.  He stands in the middle of the bar as Gerard approaches him,  and sets his jaw as he feels Gerard’s eyes inspect over him.

 

          “ Where’d ya go? ”

 

          “ To a Bulls game. ”

 

          “ With a compact crossbow until five in the morning? ”

 

          Mikey gives a heavy sigh,  and starts to walk towards his room.

 

          “ Yup,  it was  _ killer _ . ”

 

          As much as Gerard appreciates the pun,  he frowns as he follows his brother.  Gerard puts a hand on Mikey’s shoulder,  stopping him in his brisk stride.  Gerard gives a concerned frown to his brother,  and Mikey narrows his gaze on Gerard.  Mikey clicks his tongue a few times,  before sighing again.

 

          “ Found another hunting group.  Four of them.  Novices,  took on a gang downtown.  I went over to help,  maybe recruit them.  You and Ray were talking about needing backup for something big,  right? ”

 

          Gerard’s eyes widen.  He raises a thick brow to Mikey,  gaze shifting from concern to incredulation.  His words are slow,  careful,  and Mikey can tell that he’s put his brother on edge.

 

          “ When did you hear Ray and I talking? ”

 

          Mikey shrugs,  walking towards his room.  “ A few nights ago,  after you two came home from wherever.  One of the hunters is a vampire,  that’s a problem.  But I think I know some people who can help.  You and Ray should learn how to talk quieter.  I’m tired,  bro,  I’m gonna go to bed. ”

 

          For the second time that night,  Mikey shuts the door on someone.  Only this time,  he leaves his brother in the hall,  wondering what the hell has gotten into his brother.

 

          Gerard weighs his options.  Yeah,  he’s not pleased that his brother was eavesdropping on him and Ray,  but he also appreciates that Mikey’s taken it upon himself to try and find help.  Gerard sighs and walks to his room,  deciding to sleep on it.  He shuts his door behind him as he walks into his mess of a room,  and pulls off his pants as he crawls into bed.  Gerard throws a blanket over himself and stares up at the ceiling for a while.  He closes his eyes and forces himself to sleep.

  
          He can worry tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohmygod, this took way too long, I'm so sorry. It finalized to be a whopping 3,277 words! Just this chapter!!! Thank you for following and reading along, every view/comment/kudo means the world to me! 
> 
> The next chapter will be titled The Sharpest Lives!


	6. The Sharpest Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We take a look into Frank's routine, and the gang has a meeting about the apocalypse!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is shorter chapter, but definitely not a breather! Hope you enjoy!

          Frank carefully wraps the bandage tape around his knuckles as the sun dips below the horizon on the West end.  He glances out the window.  He frowns.  The hunter walks over to the hanging punching bag and takes a steadying breath.

 

          His training regime is standard,  he thinks.  The others find it too intensive,  too much.  But they don't say anything when he saves their asses out in the field.  Frank beats into the punching bag,  thickly wrapped around padding protecting his knuckles.  Left hand uppercut,  right hook,  solid punches at twelve o'clock.  Frank punches in various combinations and styles,  gaze intent and focused.

 

          None of this was supposed to happen.  Frank wasn't destined for this,  rather,  shoved into it.  He can still feel his heart pounding out of his chest.  He can still feel the fearful and angry tears burning in his eyes.  He can still feel his attacker's hot breath on his neck.  He can still feel the stinging of her claws digging into his shoulders.  He can still feel fangs barely puncture skin before the monster collapsed on top of him,  staked through the back by his savior.

 

          Gerard always tries to brush it off,  tries to reason that it's only part of his job.  But no matter how many times he says it,  Frank still takes it personally.  He's the reason Frank's alive,  the reason he has the chance to still fight.  Frank punches into the bag one last time,  before stepping back and leaning against the wall behind him.  He takes a moment to catch his breath,  closing his eyes.  His hands are throbbing,  but he doesn't care.  After a moment,  he sets up a timer on the ground,  and he positions himself up for push ups.

 

          Twenty push ups and one hundred sit ups in two and a half minutes.  Otherwise,  he completes the set and tries again.  His mind wanders,  so he has to retry it three extra times.  By the time he's done,  sweat covers Frank's body.  He stands up and does a few dynamic stretches,  before calling it a morning.

 

          Frank walks through the makeshift home,  and pokes his head into the kitchen.  He sees Ray drinking a breakfast shake,  and walks over with an outreached hand to grab at it.  Ray pulls his drink back.  Frank frowns.

 

          " Sharing is caring,  jerk. "

 

          Ray shakes his head.  " I'm feeling a cold coming on,  I don't want you sick either. "

 

          He squints,  but drops it.  Ray's right,  the last thing they need are two sick hunters.  Frank goes into the cupboard and pulls out a box of ginger tea,  and starts working on making himself a cup.  Gerard enters the kitchen,  looking more awake than Frank's ever seen him at this hour.  Mikey follows,  looking half asleep.  Then again,  Mikey always looks half asleep,  so it's not too concerning.  Gerard looks between everyone,  a prolonged gaze on Ray,  then speaks.

 

          " So,  uh.  Update. "

 

          Frank turns to focus on Gerard.  Mikey glances up at his brother,  before sending a text,  and slipping his phone into his pocket.  Frank glances at that,  raising a brow briefly.   _ ' That's a first. ' _  He thinks to himself.  Gerard continues.

 

          " I've been informed by a… Let's say affiliate,  that something big is about to happen soon. "

 

          Ray and Mikey nod,  as if they already know what's going on.  Frank frowns as he runs some water in a pot to boil.  " And?  Big like what? " He prompts.

 

          Gerard takes a breath.  " Big like... A full moon. "  He takes a pause,  because he can see everyone internally wince at the mere term.  He goes on.  " But for any demonic or undead being.  It happens once every two hundred years,  called the Blood Moon.  And vampire gangs here have been gathering up forces to make it worse than...  I don't know a comparison,  I've never even heard of recordings for this before. "

 

          Everyone's silent.  Mikey swallows,  and looks down in an almost fear as he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket.  He doesn't answer it,  and looks forward as he sets his jaw.  Ray grips his cup tight between his fingers,  looking at Gerard in what's easily the most terrified Frank's ever seen him look.  Frank doesn't like that.  Gerard isn't looking at anyone,  just letting everyone process the information.

 

          Again,  Frank is the first to speak.  He's careful with his tone,  looking between everyone as he does so.

 

          " So like.  How _werewolves_ lose control.  But for vampires,  demons,  and werewolves? "

 

          Gerard nods.  " No control at all.  Mikey,  you said you know three hunters?  We can recruit them. "

 

          Mikey opens his mouth to speak,  but it takes him a moment to actually verbalize anything.  " F-four,  dude. "

 

          His brother gives a frown,  almost apologetic.  " I don't think the other one can fight this battle. "  Frank doesn't get what that means.  He looks over to see how Ray's doing.

 

          Ray's pallor is the color of someone who's about to upchuck.  He almost looks angry at Gerard,  if he could look anything other than nauseous.  He doesn't notice Frank's eyes,  he seems to be in his own internal meltdown.  Frank frowns,  and waves at him.

 

          " Dude.  You good? "

 

          All eyes are on Ray now,  and he gives a short laugh.  He looks down at his shake and gulps down the rest of it,  shaking his head.  " Th-this is nuts,  guys.  How are we gonna fight that many of them?!  Freaking out is really rational,  and I'm even more nervous that you guys aren't doing it with me! "  He gives a hysteric chuckle,  walking over to the sink to wash his cup hastily.

 

          Gerard frowns at Ray's distress.  " Alright,  trust me,  I freaked out already.  But we can do this,  guys.  We're great hunters. "

 

          Ray scoffs.  " Not this.  I can't handle  _ this _ . "  He says harshly.

 

          Mikey looks around.  " I know...  A few other dudes.  I was gonna go set up a meeting with them soon.  Can I bring this up to them? "

 

          " As long as they help stop this,  what does it matter? "  Frank answers for Gerard,  and he nods in agreement to Mikey's question.  Frank looks back to Ray,  and then to the stove.  Shit,  that water's gotta be scalding by now.  Frank turns the heat off and pours the water into his mug,  speaking.

 

          " When's the shit storm? " 

 

          " Next full moon. " Gerard answers.

 

          " When's that again? "

 

          " Three weeks. "

 

          " Ha! " Ray interjects, but it's by no means a good laugh.  More like an angry and sarcastic remark.  He storms out of the room,  which leaves the other three to look at each other nervously.  Gerard clears his throat.

 

          " I'll...  Talk to him. "

 

          Gerard excuses himself from the room,  and it leaves Mikey and Frank alone.  Frank sits down in a chair with his tea,  blowing on it before he takes a careful sip.  He nods a little.

 

          " Did you get those silver tipped bolts? "

 

          Mikey sits down,  nodding.  " Yeah,  dude. "

 

          " How much Holy Water can you get in one go? "

 

          He thinks about that for a minute.  Mikey's quiet.  " Maybe...  Fifty gallons?  I mean,  in theory,  as long as there's a priest,  any water is Holy Water... "

 

          “ Do you know a priest? ”

 

          Mikey thinks again.  “ No,  but I can meet one. ”

 

          Mikey can tell that Frank's trying to think of new weapons,  and that's exactly what he is doing.  Frank grabs an old grocery receipt off the edge of the table, along with a pen.  He starts scribbling down ideas,  drawing shitty designs.  He'll make sure to give this to Gerard later;  He's the artist of the group.  Frank huffs after a minute,  leaning back.

 

          " Holy Water won't necessarily kill a vampire in one go,  but if we had a way to have it rain it,  like with a helicopter-- "

 

          " Dude,  we can't afford a helicopter. "

 

          " Humanity can,  and they’re the one’s at risk.  Plus,  you know like,  everyone,  I bet you could find one. "

 

          Mikey takes the compliment.  Frank continues.

 

          " And like,  we need to step up on the silver and religious artifacts and wolfsbane on our persons.  Like,  not to attack,  but like,  just so they don't hit us.  Armor,  right.  We all need some legit shit on us. "

 

          Mikey takes out his phone at this point,  writing down all of Frank's ideas onto a digital note.  They continue to throw ideas back and forth at each other for a while,  before Frank stands up.  He puts his empty cup into the sink,  and smirks over at Mikey.  This is going to be hell,  and he’s already more terrified than he’s letting on.  But Frank isn’t going to let himself give up just because it’s hard.  

 

          He had made an oath to himself on the night his life changed its course;  Kill every demonic creature that he encounters.

  
          And they’re idiots for gathering up in one spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you thank you THANK YOU for reading with this! What would your guys' thoughts be to an author Q&A? If you'd be interested, post a question, and I'll gather them up to post in between chapters. And speaking of...
> 
> Next chapter is titled I'm Not Okay(I Promise) !


	7. I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray and Gerard have a talk.

          Gerard hasn’t actually ever been in Ray’s room for more than a few seconds.  It’s always a quick head in to tell the other to get the fuck up,  or even just a few knocks at the door to tell him that the sun’s just set.  But Gerard’s knock is a little more gentle this time,  and as he lets himself partially in,  he looks around at the room. Gerard soaks the new atmosphere in for a moment,  before his gaze lands onto Ray.

 

          Ray sits on the edge of his bed,  hunched over and writing in a tattered compositional notebook frantically.  He ignores Gerard.  That’s not a good sign.  At the same time,  though,  he’s not telling Gerard to leave immediately,  so Gerard takes that as a silent invitation to let himself in.  It’s an organized mess,  he notices;  There seem to be piles for everything,  and luggage boxes for everything too.  Gerard understands;  After all,  there’s no telling when they’ll have to move next.  He carefully sits next to Ray,  who quickly shuts the journal.  They're quiet for a while,  before Gerard breaks the silence.

 

          " Ray... "

 

          He doesn't answer,  and honestly,  why did Gerard expect any different?  This feels hopeless, he's never seen Ray Toro so _scared_ before.  It scares _him_ ,  honestly.  Gerard takes a slow breath,  looking around the room again.  He sees old band shirts and tattered jeans.  There's some dirty boxers and socks too,  but Gerard directs his attention elsewhere.  He hears Ray tapping his fingertips against the journal's cover in an anxious manner.  

 

          Ray won’t respond,  won’t even react.  He swallows and stares at the cover of his journal,  with his name scribbled over the blank space in a thick inking.  His hands and shoulders shake.  Gerard said “something big” was happening,  “the end of the world”.  Ray had originally thought that Gerard was just being his dramatic self,  but he didn’t bother to mention that it was actually a fucking apocalypse.  Ray doesn’t understand why he’d keep that from him,  why he’d keep that from everyone.  They’ve got less than a month to figure out how to stop this,  how to keep people safe,  so at this point,  every second counts.  He only really reacts when he sees Gerard stand up to inspect his bedroom further,  his gaze following the other.

 

          His steps are careful around the room.  Gerard makes an effort to not step on anything,  but it’s hard when the place is covered in books and papers and clothes.  He sits down into Ray’s chair at the desk, and he turns himself to look at the contents on the desk.  Ray’s laptop(off),  more journals,  loose leaf paper.  Gerard’s brow raises when he sees an old oval frame,  with a faded and tattered photo pressed against the scratched glass.

 

          Gerard takes it in his hands,  not really thinking,  and looks at the frame and photo.  They’re old,  both of them,  with bites and chipped paint in the wooden frame.  He notices the tattered edges of the photo, and the creases in it.  Gerard looks at the subject matter,  and he licks his lips nervously.  Standing in front of a building is a young man,  maybe twenty years old.  Latino,  and in a US Army uniform.  Gerard stares at the image, bewildered to the point that he doesn’t notice Ray standing over him.  That is,  until Ray has both hands on the arm rests and is glaring at Gerard.

 

          “ Uh? ”

 

          Ray frowns,  as if he expects Gerard to know why he’s mad.  “ Dude, ”

 

          “ Wh-what,  man?  Is this like,  your grandpa?  S-sorry,  you had it out. ”  He feels very small right now.  Something about how Ray’s looming over him,  and maybe the lighting has something to do with it,  making Ray look nearly threatening.  He offers the photo back to Ray,  and can’t help but glare at him as he snatches it from Gerard’s grasp.  ‘ _He doesn't have to be such a dick,_ ’  Gerard thinks.

 

          “ Yeah,  my grandfather.  He died on the front lines.  Didn’t even know my grandmother was expecting to give birth to her son,  my father. ”  He pauses,  looking Gerard up and down.  Ray squints his eyes in a glare at Gerard,  then continues. “ You know,  it’s rude to look into people’s personal belongings. ”  He places the weathered frame back onto his desk,  making an effort to push it behind his laptop’s screen,  before looking back to Gerard.

 

          Gerard frowns,  gaze still locked on Ray all the while.  He takes a slow breath.  Ray could kill a vampire in seconds,  and he’s done it with little remorse.  But through it all,  Gerard’s never seen him as a threat.  Never something that might hurt _him_.  That just never seemed like a possible thing to happen in Gerard’s mind.  And even now,  with Ray pinning him into sitting in the chair,  Gerard never feels threatened.  But,  he does start to understand why other people might be.  He shifts in his seat as the two of them hold down eye contact with each other.

 

          Ray sets his jaw and pulls away from the chair,  turning his back to Gerard.  Gerard stands up,  speaking carefully into the room.  He feels like he’s not supposed to be here,  like Ray doesn’t _want_ him here.

 

          " Ray,  I get it. "

 

          " You _don't_ ,  Gee. "  He speaks, voice laced with sorrow and fear as he turns around to look back at Gerard.  Ray has an expression in his face that transcends emotion,  Gerard can hardly identify everything.  He sees fear,  mostly,  but there’s anger,  and pain,  betrayal,  and something that Gerard wants to call regret.  Ray swallows thickly,  blinking a few times before he takes a deep breath to steady himself.  Gerard steps forward slowly,  breathing paced and even,  like he’s trying to keep himself calm (He is).

 

          “ Ray,  why are you so scared?  What’s going on,  this looks like it’s deeper than just the full moon. ”

 

          “ Gerard,  I can’t-- ”  He cuts himself off as his voice cracks,  cursing softly at himself as he looks away from Gerard.  He grits his teeth against each other,  top row against bottom in an uncomfortable grind.  It’s all fucked,  they’re not going to make it.  Ray would stay in a spiral of intrusive and destructive thoughts,  if not for Gerard prompting him.

 

          “ Ray.  Can’t what?  What’s going on?  How can I help if you won’t tell me anything.   _Please,_ Ray.  I want to help you. ”

 

          And now Gerard looks hurt.  He can’t stand seeing Ray like this,  seeing him suffer.  It’s different when Ray gets hurt in the field while hunting.  He always seems to manage,  and pick himself up off the ground.  But this seems like it won’t stop,  like Gerard can’t do anything to help.  He feels hopeless,  powerless.  Hazel eyes stare at Ray’s averted gaze,  begging to just see a glimpse of his pain.

 

          Ray looks at Gerard.  Pain feels tangible in the room,  like stale cigarette smoke lingering between the empty spaces of the room.  Ray shakes his head,  hating himself and hating how stupid he is.  He steps forward and takes Gerard’s shoulders into his hands.  Ray feels him tense up in shock of the sudden move,  but leans in anyways and kisses Gerard.  There’s as much passion in the kiss as there is pain in the room.  It’s a shaking kiss,  where faces burn as lips open and close,  and where teeth knock against each other in the spur of the moment.  

 

          Gerard stands straight as a pole as Ray leans over to reach him properly.  And before Gerard can have a chance to react to the sudden development,  Ray pulls away,  feet fumbling over his own clothes and papers as he steps further away from Gerard.  He covers his hand over his mouth,  shaking his head,  before he points in an accusatory manner at Gerard.  For the first time,  Ray yells at Gerard,  tears burning as they run down his face.

 

          “ I can’t **fucking** lose you! ”

 

          Gerard stares at Ray,  mouth agape.  His face burns red and he stares,  trying to put the pieces together of what the fuck just happened.  He just got kissed by his best friend.  He just got yelled at by his best friend.  Gerard takes a deep breath and shuts his mouth,  licking his lips.  He can taste traces of Ray,  and that doesn’t help at all with anything.  Another deep breath.

 

          “ Ray… ”

 

          “ No,  don’t!  Don’t even talk,  just-- ”  Ray bites his lower lip and takes a minute to compose his thoughts,  furious at himself,  mostly.  He reiterates the point to Gerard,  and speaks very slowly,  as if trying to hold himself back.  “ We have three weeks to figure this out.  We have both seen each other **and** Frankie and Mikey almost die,  and you **know** what full moons mean to this group,  and yet you still took your time in telling us.  So now,  I have even less time to figure out how to solve this. ”

 

          Gerard interjects.  “ Ray,  you are not alone in this,  what are you-- ”

 

          “ Stop!  I’m not finished! ”

 

          Gerard steps back from Ray,  putting his hands up in surrender.  

 

          “ You guys are all I fucking have.  I can’t **fucking** lose you. ”

 

          Silence pairs up with pain as they linger in between the two men.  Ray starts pacing,  racking his mind for some kind of solution to what’s going on,  for a way that he can solve this.  Gerard just continues to stare at him.  He wants to think of a plan,  really,  he does.  But his mind keeps going back to that fucking kiss,  and it pisses him off because he feels like a fucking schoolboy.  He clears his throat,  and Ray turns to look at him.

 

          “ I know…  Two hunters.  They’re close,  maybe a few hours away.  I’ll get Mikey to set up an appointment with them as soon as possible. ”

 

          Ray nods,  still putting together ideas and plans.  “ And he said he knew another few guys he was gonna meet up with,  right?  And he said he knew four.  But,  you said that only three could fight.  Why? ”

 

          Gerard sighs,  rubbing his eye tiredly.  “ One’s a vampire.  He’s like _in_ the group,  and kills other vampires?  Mikey didn’t give me details,  but he can’t fight in this,  Lynz told me that every vampire goes fuckin’ feral. ”

 

          Ray pinches the bridge of his nose,  groaning.  He looks at Gerard and drags his hand down his face and neck,  fingers landing to the hem of his shirt’s opening.  Ray festers and fidgets with the fabric,  shaking his head as he stares at Gerard.

 

          “ I can’t… ”

 

          Gerard steps towards Ray,  careful as he takes the other’s hand into his.  He has no idea how to process what Ray’s feeling when it comes to the kiss,  and it’s an inappropriate time to ask.  Ray needs Gerard more than Gerard needs answers,  and he knows that.  Gerard leads Ray to the bed,  and they sit down next to each other.  Gerard leans his head on Ray’s shoulder,  quiet.  He doesn’t speak as Ray puts his arm around him and pulls him in close.  Together,  they sit like that.  Merely existing in each other’s presence,  mutually terrified of what’s to come.

 

          Ray breaks the silence.

 

          “ I’m sorry I yelled at you. ”

 

          Gerard shrugs.  “ I forgive you. ”

 

          “ I don’t know what to do. ”  Ray admits.

 

          Gerard nods.  He appreciates the honesty.  “ We’ll figure it out.  I kinda wanna stay here,  though.  S’that okay?  ”

 

          Ray doesn’t reply.  Gerard takes that as a yes.  They share their silence and their closeness,  and pain slowly fades away from the room.  There is no peace,  no safety,  but instead there is understanding and acceptance.  Gerard smiles softly as he closes his eyes,  and he leans closer into Ray’s embrace.

 

          “ Dude your room’s a mess. ”

 

          Ray snickers without thinking,  and he tightens his grip on Gerard.  He just shakes his head.  He appreciates Gerard making him laugh,  because they both are fully aware that Ray’s still terrified.  Ray looks around his room,  and gives a soft chuckle again.

  
          “ Yeah,  you’re right. ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh my gosh! This has probably been my favorite chapter to write so far! Thank you sososo much for following along! The next chapter is called Stressed Out!


	8. Stressed Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray and Gerard talk about more things, and we meet two new hunters!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to AO3 user heartofthesunrise / tumblr user trohmanhips for beta reading this chapter for me!

          Nobody went out tonight.  It isn’t until about five o’clock in the morning that Gerard finally comes out of Ray’s room,  and quietly knocks onto Mikey’s bedroom door.  Frank notices,  looking up from the book he had been reading for the past few days as Gerard slips into the room.  

 

          Ray sits at the edge of his bed.  He and Gerard had discussed that they should go out during the day to meet those hunters.  Gerard also mentioned how stressed Ray is about this,  and offered had offered an idea that could help calm Ray down.  He recounts the night,  trying to wrap his mind around it all.

 

* * *

 

          “ You can say no.  But when Mikey and I are stressed,  sharing a bed helps.  I just wanna help,  Ray. ”  He said.  There was a hesitance in his tone,  and he glanced at the door.

 

          Ray stared at Gerard for a moment,  baffled.  Did he really just offer to sleep in Ray’s bed after the conversation they just had?  Ray kept staring,  trying to see if it would click for Gerard.  It didn’t.  Ray ran a hand through his hair,  and vaguely gestured to his bed.  He switched the light off without another thought,  climbing into the small double mattress.  He looked over at Gerard,  who just stood there.

 

          “ ….  What? ”  Ray asked as he pushed himself against the wall to make room for Gerard.  He hadn’t had anyone else in his bed for years,  he realized,  and his bed was not the most suitable for sharing.  They could manage,  but it’d be a bit cramped.  But that wasn’t what Gerard was concerned about.

 

          “ You sleep in your _jeans_? ”  

 

          Ray looked down at his legs,  then back to Gerard.  He snorted,  and shook his head at all of  _ this _ .  “ Yeah,  usually.  I dunno,  it’s comfortable. ”  He was lying,  but he didn’t assume that Gerard would press the issue.  He didn’t,  and instead crawled into bed next to Ray, fully clothed as well.

 

          Gerard laid on his side,  looking up at Ray.  Ray mirrored him,  letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room.  An alarm clock flickered neon green on and off in the corner of the room,  and under the seam of the doorway,  light from the hall peeked through.  Gerard studied the way that Ray’s curls fell to the side of his face,  how his eyes looked jet black in the dark atmosphere of the room.  Ray cracked a no-good grin,  and spoke softly.

 

          “ Is this all we do?  Stare at each other in the dark until we pass out? ”  He asked,  just to be contrary.  Gerard picked up on it,  and hissed out a laugh.

 

          “ Shut up,  man.  You can’t tell me that you haven’t shared a bed with someone long enough that you forgot. ”

 

          Ray gave a sheepish shrug.  “ I mean,  have you seen me date anyone since…  This started? ”

 

          Gerard thought on that.  Come to think of it,  he didn’t really date anyone either.  It was tough,  with the work schedule and the work risks.  Mikey actually did the most dating,  but he never lasted longer than three dates with anybody.  Gerard wondered if this was his fault,  that they were all going to be alone forever because of the group.  The thought stung in the back of his throat,  and he forced a smile.  Gerard shuffled closer to Ray and wrapped an arm over Ray’s torso,  pulling himself into Ray.

 

          “ You’re s’pposed to hug.  It helps. ”

 

          Ray looked down to Gerard and he felt a tightening in the center of his chest.  He put an arm over Gerard,  and they both shifted in sync to let Ray wrap an arm under the crook of his neck.  They laid together,  entangled and quiet in the darkness of the bedroom.  Right as Ray closed his eyes,  Gerard spoke.

 

          “ D’you remember the night we met? ” 

 

          Ray cracked one eye open to look down at Gerard.  “ Gee,  go to sleep. ”

 

          Gerard shifted,  pulling his own chin up to look at Ray.  He frowned as he pursued the matter.  “ I’m serious,  do you remember? ”  There was a hurt in his face,  an expression that Ray could easily see now that they had been enveloped in darkness for so long.  Ray moved to properly see Gerard,  holding him carefully.

 

          “ Of course I remember.  We almost killed each other. ”

 

          The hurt melted away from Gerard’s face,  and he moved closer into Ray.  He spoke onto Ray’s neck,  a sleepy mumble,  laced with a smile.  “ We both were gonna bust the same vampire nest in Brooklyn.  All you had was your knife, ”

 

          “ All  _ you  _ had was a bag of rice. ”  Ray interjected,  and they both chuckled.  “ We got our asses handed to us.  I can still feel some of that shit.  Then you asked if I wanted coffee. ”

 

          Gerard hummed,  lightly running his fingers up and down Ray’s shoulder and arm.  “ And I asked you to help me save the world that night. ”

 

          Ray stilled at the touch,  giving a shallow few breaths for himself.  He took his gaze down to Gerard.  The heavier breathing and softer voice hinted that he was falling asleep.  Ray felt his pulse against his chest,  and he swallowed.  “ And I said yes. ”  He said.  Ray felt a deeper fear of this oncoming apocalypse settle into his bones when he realized what was really at stake.  He would create an army if it would keep his family safe.  Gerard spoke into Ray’s chest,  muffled and the ghost of a whisper.

 

          “ Get some sleep,  Ray. ”

 

          Ray didn’t sleep much at all that night.

 

* * *

 

          Ray sighs as he stands up from his bed.  He pulls off his dirty Iron Maiden t-shirt from his chest,  only to replace it with an equally dirty Metallica t-shirt.  He won’t deny that he only has about five t-shirts,  it’s just a fact.  He stumbles into the bathroom and grabs his toothbrush and toothpaste,  looking into the mirror as he feels around his mouth to clean the night’s grime off of his teeth.  He trudges into the kitchen,  quiet as he passes Mikey’s room.

 

          An interview with Mikey Way is silent,  and usually quick.  Gerard’s used to it;  He usually reads over Mikey’s shoulder anyways.  But this time,  Gerard is pacing,  anxious and fretful.  Mikey slides his phone shut and slips it into his pocket,  looking up to his big brother.

 

          “ They seem legit.  And they know about us. ”

 

          Gerard stops in his stride,  and he pulls his lips into a thin line.  He hesitates as he speaks.  “ Is that a good thing or a bad thing? ”

 

          “ Good, ”  Mikey assures.  He pushes himself out of his chair,  and pats Gerard on the shoulder.  “ They really wanna have a chat. ”  Mikey keeps his hand on his brother’s shoulder,  and rouses it gently.  “ You didn’t go into your room last night. ”

 

          Gerard looks at Mikey,  trying to identify his face,  what he’s saying behind those words.  But Mikey’s a brick wall when it comes to reading his face.  Gerard pulls his shoulders up into a shrug,  watching Mikey.  “ Yeah…?  Ray was stressed,  so we had a talk and I stayed in his room. ”

 

          Mikey thinks to process that for a moment,  then pulls back from Gerard as his phone buzzes again.  “ Mmm, ”  He says,  as if that ends the previous conversation.  He pokes back a reply to whoever is on the other end,  and then looks back to Gerard.  “ We should go. ”

 

          “ Who was that? ”  Gerard asks, gesturing to the phone.

 

          “ A friend.  C’mon, ”  And Mikey’s on his way out before Gerard can press the topic any further.

 

          Frank is now a few more chapters into his book,  and he lifts his head up as the Way brothers exit from Mikey’s room.  He and Mikey share a glance with each other.

 

          “ You’re not tired, right? ”  Gerard asks Frank, making his way over towards the coat rack to grab his jacket.  He looks over to Frank,  then to Mikey,  who’s grabbing his shoes and leaning against the wall to pull them onto his feet.

 

          “ Uh,  a little.  Why,  what’s going on? ”

 

          “ I found some hunters,  Mikey looked into them and they seem legit,  so we’re gonna go talk to them. ”

 

          Frank slips his bookmark into his story,  setting it on the coffee table with a sigh.  He grabs his jacket too,  as well as his shoes.  If this whole apocalypse thing is serious,  then they’ll need all the help they can get.  He sees Ray step from the kitchen and go go over to the laptop at the dining room,  and raises a brow when Ray groans.

 

          “ What’s up,  dude? ”

 

          “ Overcast,  and thunderstorms all day.  That’s so unbelievably lame. ”

 

          Mikey frowns at that,  along with Frank.  Of course their first day-walking trip as a group is rainy and cloudy.  It’s like they can’t enjoy things that real people do.  Ray shuts down the laptop,  and they all head out,  not quite fully ready for the all-dayer they’re about to pull.  

 

          Frank and Mikey share another glance with each other.  They’re not ones for snooping,  honest,  but when they heard Ray  _ shout  _ at Gerard a few hours earlier,  that was hard to ignore.  They had had a little meeting themselves,  but they were never ones for chatting;  They’ve always been more action-oriented.  So they’ve got a plan.

 

          Ray’s driving.  He lets Mikey tell him where to turn and where to drive, but is otherwise fairly quiet.  The main direction they seem to be going is south,  following along the lake’s gentle curve that edges around the east side of the foggy city.  The lake feels like a saltless ocean,  blue spanning as far as the eyes can see,  the vastness showing no signs of coming to an end.  The stormy winds push at the water’s surface, forcing waves to curl and crash against sandy shores.

 

          Ray turns on the windshield wipers on slow as the downpour begins.  Gerard sits next to him in the passenger’s seat, but neither talk to each other.  His eyes are on the rain hitting against the road ahead,  leaning his head back against the seat.  Frank’s reading,  but after twenty minutes of pure silence,  he gives a sigh,  shutting his book.

 

          “ So.  Who are these guys? ”

 

          Mikey opens his mouth,  but lets Gerard take this answer.  He looks back down at his phone as his brother explains the situation in a tired tone.

 

          “ Two hunters from Ohio.  We’re meeting them in the middle in Gary,  and are gonna ask them to help us. ”  Gerard either ignores or doesn’t notice the grimace that Ray makes when he mentions Gary.

 

          “ Alright,  and what’s that going to do?  Wouldn’t they want to help out their hometown instead of here? ”

 

          Gerard shrugs,  giving a sigh as he thinks through the different routes.  He ends up shaking his head.  “ They’re from a tiny town.  All the hunts they’ve done,  they went to bigger cities.  We’ll hope they say yes for Chicago’s sake. ”

 

          Ray opens his mouth to say something,  but he shuts his mouth as the rain pours down harder,  putting his focus onto the road.  His knuckles burn white with the intensity of how tight his grip is on the steering wheel.  Mikey notices Ray,  and raises a brow before looking back down to his phone.  He opens his mouth with a yawn,  speaking on the exhale.

 

          “ They’ve killed two dozen vampires.  Also they sorted out some kind of poltergeist issue a few weeks back?  I didn’t get many details on that,  but anyways.  Vampires.  They know how to deal with them. ”

 

          Frank chuckles.  “ Well,  golly-gee fellas,  that’s a relief. ”

 

          “ Was that supposed to be sarcastic? ”  Ray glances at Frank through the rear-view mirror.  He looks back to the road as fat droplets of water crash against the window.

 

          “ A little?  I mean,  seriously,  we’re just picking strangers up for this gig.  It feels overboard. ”

 

          “ Funny,  I thought that’s what we did with you. ”

 

          The words cut into the atmosphere of the car,  and everyone can feel the blood pouring from the wound that Ray’s just created.  It was casual,  how he said it,  like he didn’t even mean to be that harsh.  But by the way his eyes don’t shift with realization and remorse,  it’s clear that this is intentional.

 

           Frank slams his book shut,  and leans forward from the back seat.  “ Toro,  what the  _ fuck  _ did you just say to me? ”

 

          Ray gives a dry chuckle,  staring forward into the storm.  Thunder and waves crash along the lakefront,  and a branch of lightning dances across the sky.  There’s a harsher edge to his words now,  like he wants this to hurt.  “ What’s wrong,  Frank?  Are you suddenly the only person we’re allowed to pick up for gigs? ”

 

          Gerard turns to look at Ray,  frowning as he does so.  This is a lot,  especially coming from Ray.  It stings too,  knowing where the root of this anger and vitriol is coming from.  But that doesn’t excuse it.  “ Ray,  you know that was different. ”

 

          Ray gives a careless shrug,  and he shoots a glare to Gerard that says  _ ‘You know better.’ _ .  “ Hey,  you’re right,  Gee.  These guys have taken out two dozen vampires.  When we picked Frank up,  he had a whopping body count of zero.  Right,  Frankie? ”

 

          Frank’s seething,  his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths as he glares daggers at Ray.  This hurts,  it hurts like hell,  and Ray’s gotta be aware of it.  He spits out a response,  leaning forward over the center console to get a better look at Ray.  “ What the fuck is going on with you!? ”

 

          Lightning crashes across the sky and thunder bellows.  Ray shakes his head.  “ You don’t get to cherry-pick which hunters we take and leave.  We need everyone we can get for this shit-show. ”

 

          Mikey speaks now,  his voice soft.  “ I think he was joking,  dude. ”

 

          “ I don’t care! ”  He’s focused on the road,  and doesn’t notice the way that Mikey flinches back into the seat,  looking down at his lap.  Rain pours down onto the car,  and Ray turns the dial for the fastest wiper speed as he grips at the steering wheel.  Everyone’s being too casual about this, too nonchalant.  Nobody cares about the fact that they could all die.  Nobody seems to get that this is the kind of thing that could kill all of them quickly and painfully.  Nobody seems to want to realize that they needed to have been non-stop preparing for this the second they realized it was a thing.

 

          Gerard looks at Ray with pain all over his features,  and he takes a breath.  This is all understandable from his perspective,  but not justifiable.  He carefully puts his hand on Ray’s shoulder,  rubbing the pad of his thumb over Ray’s collar bone.  Skin barely touches skin past the edge of Ray's t-shirt,  and Gerard says nothing.  Ray tenses,  his breath caught halfway in his lungs as he locks his gaze on the road.  Slowly,   _ slowly,   _ he relaxes into Gerard’s touch,  albeit somewhat reluctantly.  Gerard gives a gentle squeeze,  rolling his thumb in circular motions over Ray's skin as he watches his expression with a soft gaze.  Ray swallows,  dipping into an even more relaxed state as Gerard continues.  Ray sighs through his nose.

 

          “ ‘m sorry,  Frank. ”  Ray says.

 

          Frank's been sitting slouched in the back seat of the car,  sulking through the pages of his book,  not even reading it.  He glares up at Ray for a brief second,  then looks back down to the book.  "You're a dickhead,  Toro."  He says bitterly,  with a venom behind his teeth.  He frowns.

 

          Ray's quiet;  He can’t argue with that.  He pulls the car down the curved ramp that leads off the highway,  taking the van's speed down to a residential level as they enter the city.  He hates Gary.  Maybe it’s the abandoned and decrepit buildings littered on the sides of the road.  Maybe it’s the smog that hasn't left since the late eighties.  But whatever it is,  he’s not pleased with the fact that it had to be Gary for the rendezvous spot for these new hunters.  Ray pulls into the parking lot of the hot dog joint that they’ve all decided to meet up at,  and Ray stops the car.  

 

          Rain continues to pour down in a relentless fashion,  and Gerard pulls his collar up over his neck as he steps out of the car.  Everyone rushes in and shakes themselves dry once they’re safe from the downpour,  looking around to see where the hunters may be.  Mikey points them out quietly,  and the four walk over and pull chairs around the table to sit with them.

 

          They’re younger than anyone expected,  by a lot.  One has faded pink hair that falls in a foppish mohawk,  and seems to have a toothy grin that looks like it has no innocent intentions.  The other comes off as shy,  mouse-like.  It reveals itself in the way he sits slouched back and downwards in the chair,  how he darts his glances around the room nervously.  They can’t be older than twenty;  Ray notices that first.

 

          Gerard smiles at the two.  “ Hey guys.  Uh,  I’m Gerard.  This is Ray,  Mikey,  and Frank.  We heard a rumor that you guys know how to kill vampires? ”

 

          The one nods,  anxiously running a hand through short hair.  “ Yeah,  uh.  I’m Tyler.  This is my-- ”  He looks at the other for a moment,  not sure what to call him.  He gives Tyler a lazy shrug,  and Tyler looks back at the four.  “ Partner,  Josh. ”  Tyler reaches for his paper cup of some kind of drink and takes a sip,  peering down into the hole.

 

          Josh gives a two finger salute,  cracking a wry grin at the boys.  “ Josh ‘nd Tyler,  at your service.  Best vampire hunters in Ohio. ”  He winks at Frank,  folding his hands behind his head as he leans back in the chair.

 

          “  _ Only  _ vampire hunters in Ohio. ”  Tyler clarifies,  and Gerard catches him shoot a nervous gaze up at him.  He clears his throat and looks between everyone,  Josh included,  then speaks up again.  “ But if you guys would,  I mean,  if you need the help-- ”

 

          “ We do. ”  Ray interrupts,  and he looks between the guys.  Gerard gives Ray a look that,  to an untrained eye,  is unidentifiable.  Ray avoids the look that he is very much trained in identifying,  and looks back to the boys.  “ We do.  Mikey probably told you what's going on,  so you can imagine the stress that this situation calls for. ”

 

          And Frank snorts at that.  He looks around the dingy little joint,  and stands up.  He fishes in his pocket for his wallet,  pointing at each of his partners.  “ Food?  Food?  Food? ”

 

          “ I’ll have a hot dog? ”  Mikey asks,  and Frank gives him a thumbs up.

 

          “ Coffee.  Black coffee. ”  Gerard sighs,  thrown off by the fact that he’s still awake.  Frank shoots the thumbs up over to him,  then looks at Ray.

 

          “ I ate before we left, ”  Ray says in a somewhat dismissive tone,  just enough to piss off Frank for even asking.  Frank goes off to the counter,  and Gerard gives another look at Ray.  He doesn’t make a big deal of anything as he puts his hand on Ray’s knee.  He gives Ray a pat from under the table,  and Ray sighs heavily,  leaning back in his chair.  He vaguely gestures at Josh and Tyler with his index finger.  “ When did you guys start doing this? ”  He asks.

 

          “ Uh,  right around my eighteenth birthday.  Right,  Josh? ”

 

          Josh ponders for a moment,  then nods a few times.  “ That sounds right.  I remembered we used the cash you got for supplies. ”

 

          Ray still feels Gerard’s hand,  a light weight,  on his leg and he sets his jaw.  Frank returns with the food and drinks,  making a point not to look at Ray.  Ray doesn’t care.  He focuses all his attention on Tyler.  “ And when was that? ”

 

          “ December. ”

 

          “  _ This _ December? ”

 

          Tyler and Josh nod together.

 

          Ray swallows.  Alright,  so these really  _ are  _ kids.  He looks at Mikey.  He had to have known.  But Mikey’s texting someone while eating his hot dog.  Ray looks at Gerard.  They share a look,  a look that tells Gerard that Ray can’t talk anymore,  even if he’s made a decision.  He gets it,  and looks at Tyler and Josh.

 

          “ This shindig is happening at the next full moon.  We can supply you with whatever weapons you need,  but we need you in Chicago the day before it all happens.  There’s a guest room at our base,  you both can crash in there if that’s okay. ”

 

          Josh darts a playful look to Tyler,  then sobers up as he looks to Gerard.  “ That’s fine.  What kinda gear do you guys have? ”

 

          Mikey speaks through his hot dog,  never taking his gaze from his phone.  “ Wooden and silver stakes,  bullets,  and blades.  Firearms of various sorts,  and we’re in the process of getting lightweight armor and inscribing everything with Holy scripture. ”

 

          Gerard takes a sip of his coffee,  smiling at Tyler when he sees his awe-stricken face.  He chuckles a little bit and tilts his head at Tyler.  “ We didn't start out like this.  It started with maybe one silver knife and a handful of rice. ”  Gerard squeezes Ray’s leg under the table,  his hand subtle and secret;  Casual,  but at the same time,  acutely not.  He lets Ray snag his coffee and taking a long drink of it.  Ray stands up suddenly,  scanning the place.  He excuses himself as he leaves towards the back. 

 

          “ Is he good? ”

 

          Mikey looks at Josh at the inquiry,  and keeps his face straight as he replies,  “ Can a guy piss in peace? ”  He blinks as Gerard steps up to follow Ray,  and frowns.  Frank snorts.  So does Josh.

 

          “ Apparently not. ”  Josh quips,  and he ignores Tyler’s glare at him.  Josh looks over at Frank and gives a lazy smile,  studying Frank.  “ So is this for real?  An apocalypse because of the moon? ”

 

          Frank bites his tongue from saying something like  _ ‘ No shit,  Sherlock. ’ _ ,  and just nods.  “ Yeah.  They’re all gonna lose their shit,  and we’re gonna stop them. ”

 

          “ They… ”  Tyler mirrors softly,  chewing on the word.  He drags his gaze up to Frank’s,  expression undefinable,  sterile,  and unsettling.  He holds the gaze,  tilts his head slowly,  and swallows.  “ Who’s they? ”

 

          Frank raises his brows at the odd behavior.  He looks over his shoulder to where the bathroom is,  huffing.  This isn’t his job;  This is Gerard or Ray’s.  He is definitely not the diplomat of the group.  He turns back to Tyler and Josh,  and takes a moment to gather his thoughts.  Thankfully,  Mikey beats Frank to the punch,  and starts explaining the whole thing in steady and even detail.

 

* * *

 

          Ray ignores his reflection as he washes his hands.  He turns to see Gerard.  Ray grabs a paper towel and makes his way through the bathroom,  intent on passing him.  He stops when Gerard steps in front of him,  and takes a big step back as Gerard reaches a hand out to touch him.

 

          “ Don’t, ”  Ray says.

 

          That stings,  but Gerard listens.  He looks to Ray and furrows his brows together,  trying to put together puzzle pieces of the last few hours.  He and Ray have got a damned good grip on non-verbal communication,  but there’s some gaps that Gerard wants to fill.  He sleepily rubs an eye,  yawning.

 

          “ They’re young.  I didn’t know that when I got Mikey to talk to them. ”

 

          Ray nods.  “ Just outta high school?  Around there. ”

 

          “ New,  too.  Just started this year.  What do you think?  Can they handle it? ”

 

          Ray thinks on that. On the one hand,  he doesn't like the idea of using hunters who are practically inexperienced children.   But on the other hand,  they need every able-bodied fighter they can get.  It hits Ray’s morals versus his ambitions,  and he doesn't know what to think for a moment.  There's the very real possibility that they could get hurt.  There’s the very real possibility that all of them could get hurt.  Ray nods.

 

          “ They'll be okay.  I can give them some proper training if they need it.  Twenty-four vampires since they started as impressive,  we need that. ”

 

          Gerard seems to agree.  His expression changes gears,  going from planning the survival the apocalypse to a different kind of intense thoughtfulness,  one filled with analyzation.  Gerard looks at Ray.  His features soften as he speaks.

 

          “ Look,  I know this is scary and I know that this is stressing you out more than you want to admit.  But you can't lash out at us.  Especially because we're scared and we're stressed too.  What happened with Frank in the car wasn't-- ”

 

          “ I know, ”  Ray dips his head down looking at the tops of his and Gerard shoes.  He shakes his head,  “ I was out of line,  I had no right to say that stuff.  I was a dick. ”  He really does regret hurting Frank like that,  and it's not hard to see.  But at the same time,  he doesn’t want to dwell on it any longer than he has to.  Ray swallows,  and brings his head back up to look at Gerard.

 

          He watches Ray’s reaction to it all,  and he feels a frown tug at the corners of his lips.  There’s still that sorrow inside of his eyes that Gerard just can’t seem to fix,  no matter how much he wants to.  He nods.  “ They’re in. ”  He reaffirms.

 

          Ray nods.  “ They’re in. ”  He walks out of the bathroom,  Gerard following close behind.  They sit back down at the table together in near unison,  and Gerard smiles at everyone who seemed to be chatting.  Ray takes another drink of the coffee.

 

          “ Well guys, ”  Gerard clasps his hands together with a crooked grin,  and he sticks one hand out to Tyler.  “ You guys are just what we need.  We’d be happy to have you help us out. ”

 

          Tyler hesitates before he takes Gerard’s hand,  eyes wide to the point of bulging.  He grins at Gerard and shakes enthusiastically,  not wanting to let go.  “ Y-yes,  sir.  We’ll do anything for you guys.  Promise. ”  He finally lets go so that Josh can shake Gerard’s hand,  to which he just gives a big grin and a quick,  “ Sick man, ”  before pulling his hand back.

 

          “ Mikey will keep you guys posted on everything as it comes up.  And if anything comes up,  don’t hesitate to tell us.  Every bit of helpful information is vital at this stage. ”

 

          “ Of course,  sir.  Whatever you say. ”

 

          Gerard crinkles his nose,  and laughs a little bit.  He looks over to Mikey who cracks the ghost of a grin,  before looking down at at his lap.  He pops his brows up as he feels Ray’s hand grab his from under the table.  He smiles,  hoping that his face isn’t suddenly flushed.  But by Josh’s reaction,  he is.  Gerard stands up,  and the others follow his lead.  Again,  Gerard gives a smile and nod to their newest hunters.

 

          “ We’ll keep in touch. ”

 

          It’s a dash to the van as rain pours down.  It was worse earlier,  but that by no means makes the current rain any kind of pleasant.  Ray shakes his head and water flicks out from his hair,  and he frowns briefly.  They all set out to drive back,  the lake now on Gerard’s side as they drive.  He leans his head against the window,  watching the waves crash and fold over each other.  He doesn’t say anything when Ray takes a hand off the steering wheel,  moving it over to take Gerard’s hand in his again.  Just smiles,  feeling that comfortable heat come back to his face.

  
          The van drove in a comfortable silence on the way back home,  where then, the boys all crashed in their rooms until sundown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took foreverrrrrrrr! Mainly because of life(my now standard excuse) as well as actually editing and writing in that whole flashback scene the second time around! I hope you guys enjoyed this update, thank you so much for sticking with it. We're just getting started with this plot stuff, I'm excited!!
> 
> Next chapter is a (much needed)breather with some humor and world building, titled Straight To Video!


	9. Straight to Video

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Lindsey's coven tonight, and follow her to a retro reunion with one of our heroes. Pete has a night on the town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S/O to ao3 user heartofthesunrise for being my beta reader!

          People clamor into the club with identification and entry fees in hand, eager to have the night of their lives. Some know the true nature of the hot spot, and others are in for a morbid surprise. A man with dark hair and red dyed sideburns stands at the doorway, checking every card with a half-assed glance and taking wads of cash. He looks over his shoulder into the club, and squints. He frowns. "Jimmy, what's our cap for the night?" He shouts over a loud booming bass that makes the whole club shake.

 

          For a moment, there's no reply. But soon, a spidery man with a boyish face and spiked hair pushes through the crowd. He looks at the long queue of patrons trying to enter, and then at the club's interior. He points to someone outside, vague on purpose.

 

          "Stop at the one with the curly short orange hair. Not orange like ginger, Steve, orange like pumpkins. See?"

 

          Steve looks into the masses and nods when he sees the individual. "Alright." Jimmy starts to leave, but Steve grabs him by the shoulder with a heavy grip. "Can we go to the canned music sooner tonight, I'm fucking starving."

 

          Jimmy cracks a grin, and two pointed fangs sit over his bottom lips. He nods enthusiastically, and smacks Steve's ass. "Hell yeah, motherfucker, we'll feast tonight." He enters the depths of the club, neon lights flashing in erratic patterns.

 

          Lindsey sits with her back against the bar, watching everyone settle in towards the front of the stage. Some approach her, they all say the same things with different words. Excited to see the show, even more excited for the afterparty. She recognizes a few of them, how flushed they are at the start of the night. Lindsey moves towards the stage as the house lights flicker on and off. She nods once to the girl on drums, and steps over to her keyboard.

 

          She’s still getting used to the keys. Back in the eighties and nineties, their punk rock cover sufficed. But lately, industrial house has been the trend. With Kitty on drums, Steve on a sound board, Lindsey on keys, and Jimmy on the mic, they manage to get their crowd into a glamoured trance that leaves them ripe for the literal taking.

 

          “Are you mother fuckers ready?!” Jimmy yells to the crowd, his unholy glamour drenching his words like sulfuric acid, burning into the impressionable minds of the audience. They cheer and scream as the music starts, moving as one unit to the beat of the drums and the pulse of the bass.

 

          Lindsey looks out to the audience, glowing eyes boring into anyone who dares look at her and entrancing them with her glamour. Truth be told, she’s not even that hungry. But it takes all four of them to get a whole club under, and she’s not gonna deny Steve of his dinner. She glances over to him and grins, and it widens as he returns the smile from across the stage.

 

          They play for a good hour, making sure that every human in the club is heavily under the effect of their combined glamours. Steve turns on the pre-recorded tracks, and they descend into the audience, eager for a night of feasting and vulgarities.

 

          Lindsey indulges herself to a neck or two, just for the sake of it. But she soon after, she heads to the back of the club, where she slips on her leather jacket quickly and quietly.

 

          “Lynz?” Kitty’s voice calls out to her. She stands at the end of the hallway, head tilted to the side in curiosity. Her pigtails always remind Lindsey of cheerleader pom-poms, the way the bright red scrunchies hold the tufts of hair close to her scalp. Lindsey raises a brow, trying to come off as nonchalant.

 

          “Hey Kitty, what’s up?”

 

          Kitty sighs and on the exhale her glare is as gentle as it is effective. Lindsey reads the expression instantly, and she gives a small and nonverbal grumble as she goes to lean against the wall, crossing her arms. Kitty has spent the last five decades actively making note of every one of Lindsey's little unconscious gestures - she can't keep anything from her. With the set having just ended, it’s easy to say that this is unusual.

 

  
          “What are you doing, Lynz?”

 

  
          Lindsey chews on her tongue, thinking. There’s no good reason to lie, she’s known Kitty for two hundred years. Lindsey shrugs. “I was gonna go out to the arcade outside the city.”

 

  
          Kitty nods as she contemplates, and moves to lean against the wall with Lindsey. She never got why kids liked video games so much. She’s always preferred chess, or at least checkers. Regardless, Kitty rests her head on Lindsey's shoulder, subtle affection that they had grown so used to sharing with each other.

 

  
          “What’s got you bogged down, kiddo?”

 

  
          Lindsey is quiet for a moment. Kitty has to know; but she knows she wants Lindsey to say it out loud. Something about saying things out loud makes it more real, easier to fight. Lindsey leans the side of her head against the top of Kitty’s, and moves closer as Kitty pulls an arm around her shoulder. She chooses her words carefully, and she speaks slowly. Lindsey has been dreading this for the last few decades.

 

  
          “The last time this happened, I hurt someone I really cared about. And I trust you, and I trust Jimmy, and I trust Steve, and I think our plan for this is solid but… I don’t know if I trust myself, after what I did.”

 

  
          Kitty pats Lindsey's shoulder and pulls her into a side-hug. The club’s music starts to pick up, where Jimmy and Steve must be having a ball. Kitty gives a solid pat, and lets go of Lindsey. She smiles. “Clear your head. For what it’s worth, Lindsey, I trust you. You’re a lot different now, in the best of ways.” Kitty leans up on her toes to give Lindsey a kiss on each cheek, her smile widening as Lindsey smiles.

 

  
          “Thank you, Kitty.” She says, making her way towards the door.

 

  
          Kitty watches her go off with the same fondness a mother might have for a daughter. She looks outside the window to the rising moon and frowns, then goes to find Jimmy.

 

* * *

 

 

  
          Lindsey meets Gerard on the corner of Ogden and Kedzie, deep in the residential neighborhoods of Chicago. Gerard straightens his posture as Lindsey approaches him, taking one last drag of his cigarette before crushing the butt it underneath his the heel of his shoe. He pushes himself off of the black Pantera.

 

  
          “Nice car,” She notes, walking over to the passenger’s side.

 

  
          He laughs a little, getting behind the wheel. He starts the old engine, the purr of the old sports car probably being too nice for Gerard to fully appreciate, but he knows that. “Thanks, I don’t even know how we managed to get our hands on it.” Gerard admits. He starts driving down Ogden, the traffic winding down in the night. Lindsey pokes at the radio, flipping through the channels, before landing on something that neither of them grimace at. Smooth jazz plays between them.

 

  
          Lindsey looks out the window, all the passing houses seemingly racing past her. She looks at Gerard’s reflection through the rear-view mirror. “Why did you call me to meet with you?” She finally asks.

 

  
          Gerard looks over at her, then back to the road. He instinctively grabs the coffee cup in the cup holder, unaware of the state of the contents as he drinks. He grimaces at cold and stale coffee, but shrugs. “I dunno,” He admits. “You’re cool.”

 

  
          “I’m probably ten times your age.”

 

  
          He chuckles. “I like older women.” He mostly jokes, but his smile fades quickly after. They drive, and he runs a hand through his hair. “I really don’t know, though. Something about you is different. Like I feel like I could pet cats with you and chain smoke and drink pots of coffee with you.”

 

  
          She contemplates the imagery. “That sounds like a crush.” She tells him.

 

  
          Gerard shakes his head. “No, it’s different. Like I don’t want to have sex with you, no offense -”

 

  
          “None taken.”

 

  
          “But I feel like I can talk to you about things that I don’t talk to most people about. Things that you have to wait a long time to get to know someone before even thinking about bringing the subjects up.” Gerard looks back to Lindsey, her face flickering between light and dark as they pass orange tinted street lamps. “Are we allowed to talk about things like that?”

 

  
          Lindsey watches him. She hears his heartbeat, a steady pulse that beats with an intensity that’s seen far too much coffee and not enough sleep. He’s young, younger than she was when she got turned. “What are you looking to get from this?” she asks him.

 

  
          He pulls the car to a stop as the traffic light switches to yellow. He swallows. “I dunno. Someone to talk to. That’s all.” He rubs his eye and yawns, waiting for the light to change.

 

  
          Deliberating and picking apart his words in her mind, Lindsey rolls her window down a crack. She dips her fingers into the wind as they start to drive again, well into the suburbs by now. The arcade was his idea. Truth be told, she hasn’t touched a stand since the eighties. But Gerard said it cleared his head. It’s eerie, Lindsey thinks, how he’s said things that line up almost perfectly with what she’s been thinking. So she nods, more so affirming her words to herself than to him. “Alright. Let’s talk. What do you wanna talk about?”

 

  
          “Well, who are you? Who are your friends? What did you--”

 

  
          “Holy shit, okay, kid.” Lindsey doesn’t let him finish, and she sighs. “Alright. How about... You ask me one thing, I ask you one thing. I’m into conversations, not interviews.”

 

  
          Gerard pulls into a parking spot and pulls the key out of the ignition. He glances to Lindsey sheepishly. “Shit uh, sorry,” He says, and he thinks for a moment on what he wants to ask. They walk into the arcade, where a gangly teenager sits at the front desk. Gerard looks at the rows and rows of stand up games and smiles. There’s a certain homey feeling that surrounds an arcade. The soft whirring sound from the machines, and techno songs they play from dusty speakers. Lindsey walks up to the kid, and she gives him a dazzling smile as she leans her elbows against the counter. Gerard watches with a curiosity as she speaks in a silky and sweet voice.

 

  
          “We’re friends of the family. We’ve known you since you were a kid, and you’re real happy to see us. So much, that you’re gonna tell us that tonight’s on the house.”

 

  
          He blinks at her, then breaks into a smile. “Oh man, guys! What the heck, it’s been forever! Awww man, dudes, uh,” He looks over his shoulder, and around the arcade. Lindsey keeps smiling as he takes out a bright red credit card with the arcade’s logo printed on it. “Here, tonight’s on the house, just tap this against the scanners and any game’s free!” He gives Lindsey a hug over the counter, and watches fondly as they walk down an aisle of old games.

 

  
          Gerard furrows his brows. “What was that?” He asks her. She taps the card against a Street Fighter game, choosing her avatar.

 

  
          “I haven’t paid for anything since eighteen forty-three, and I’m not starting now.” She jerks her head over for Gerard to join her, and he does. He chooses Zangief to start with. He likes him. She picks the demonic looking one and the randomized location, and grins over at Gerard. “My turn for a question. How old are you?”

 

  
          He stares at the screen, chewing on his lower lip as they play. “Twenty-seven. Hey, you’re not gonna use your glamour on me, are you?”

 

  
          She blocks his roundhouse kick, and moves back. “No, I only use it when I could get hurt or when I want free stuff. Plus, you’re alright. When did you start hunting?”

 

  
          Gerard taps between the quick attack and jump, trying to spark up a combo attack. “Uhh… I dunno, like twenty? Twenty-one? It’s been over five years. Ish. I’ve been too busy to keep track.” He grins as he lands a streak hit. “How old are you?”

 

  
          Lindsey holds down on the heavy attack, or at least she thinks that it’s the heavy attack. The labels had been rubbed out by skin oils, eroded from constant button mashing. “Two… Hundred and fifty? Ish. Why’d you start hunting?”

 

  
          “Fuck,” Gerard rolls his head in a circular motion as Lindsey wins the first round, and he picks Cammy this round. “I started hunting because, uh…” He dodges a string of attacks, and jumps over Lindsey's character. “Started because I saw a girl die. This guy like, pinned her to the wall and just. Started eating her neck. She didn’t even scream, but she was crying. I was scared shitless, but for some fuckin’ reason I just like, followed him. He and his friends were squatting at this old factory. I kinda stalked them for a while and was like, ‘Holy shit, these guys are vampires.’ and then I like…” Gerard huffs in exasperation from losing the second round. “Best outta five, okay? Anyways, uh. I had like, a wooden stake and a handful of rice, and I tried to go in and take them out.”

 

  
          Lindsey looks away from the game and to Gerard. She cracks a grin, the kind that can’t believe what he just said, and one that’s laced with concern. “A vampire nest. By yourself. With one stake and some rice.”

 

  
          Gerard laughs nervously. “I woulda died, I bet. I mean, I almost did. Uh, thankfully, Ray was there too and we figured out that we were both trying to do the same thing and--”

 

  
          “Pause. Who’s Ray?” Lindsey watches her avatar bob up and down as the game waits for them to start playing. The arcade’s humid, with the heat of the running machines, as well as all of the people crammed between the aisles. The place smells like sweat and pizza, and Lindsey can hardly stand all of the sensory overstimulation.

 

  
          “Ray is, uh. The one who wanted to kill you.” Gerard clears his throat. “He’s sorry about that. I mean, I’m pretty sure he is. He’s uh, been having a rough time lately.” Gerard frowns at the fighter game, starting their match.

 

  
          Lindsey matches his stride. She looks at his face through the reflection of the screen, not bothered at the fact that she doesn’t have one. “You two are friends?” She asks.

 

  
          “Oh yeah, best friends.” Gerard answers.

 

  
          She lets herself get hit by a combo strike. Lindsey thinks for a moment, back to the night when Ray had saved Gerard. He was ready to kill Lindsey, without even a second thought. She blocks an aerial attack. Before she can ask another question, Gerard continues.

 

  
          “He’s like, the only reason we know what the hell we’re doing. He taught us how to fight, how to protect ourselves. He’s always so level-headed and patient with all of us, even when we’re acting like fucking idiots. I don’t know how he does it, he’s like a genius.”

 

  
          “Uh huh…” Lindsey lets Gerard win the latest round. She’s lost interest in Street Fighter. Lindsey looks for a different game to pique her interest, and crosses her arms over her chest. “Alright, _that_ sounds like a crush.”

 

  
          Gerard lets out a laugh, the kind of knee-jerk reaction that sounds more like an exclamation than anything, before it dwindles down to a string of dying chuckles. “What do you mean? I admire him, does that mean I think about making out with him?”

 

  
          “Does it?”

 

  
          Gerard crinkles his nose at her, and walks down the aisles to find a different game. Is she being so contrary on purpose? His mind goes back to the actual kiss he had shared with Ray, and he frowns as he looks at all the variants of Pac-Man that are available. Lindsey follows him, and she rolls her eyes.

 

  
          “Okay, not to be like, freaky and weird and a show-off, but your heart rate totally spiked and I can hear it like a bass drum. So what’s going on with you and Ray?”

 

  
          Gerard deflates at the call out, and he leans against the Tron game. He forces himself to look at her, but breaks the contact to cast his eyes to the fluorescent neon confetti carpet. He rubs the back of his neck, giving an uncomfortable groan. “Am I that obvious?” He asks, looking up at her.

 

  
          Lindsey leans against Carn-Evil, pushing one of the attached shotguns away from her back. She didn’t even probe him that hard, and already, he’s confessing to this. She laughs a little. “I mean, I have an unfair advantage, and I’m pretty smart. But I thought you guys were together when he rescued you back there.”

 

  
          Gerard groans again, and turns around to start playing Tron. The gameplay is weird, and so is the joystick, but it’s a good distraction from the embarrassment of his situation right now. He picks the racing mini-game, and moves over to let Lindsey watch him play. They’re both quiet for the first three times Gerard dies and has to start over.

 

  
          “I mean, yeah. I’ve thought about being with him like that. But with everything going on, we’re both so stressed and busy. I don’t know if we have time to add like, frequent soul gazing and kissing into the mix.”

 

  
          Lindsey snorts, but sobers up shortly after. She puts her hand on Gerard’s arm, causing him to die again as he turns his attention away from the screen to look at her. Lindsey has a deathly serious gaze on, and it’s as stunningly beautiful as it is intimidating. He doesn’t speak.

 

  
          “Gerard, I want you to really listen to me. You don’t have time. This thing is coming, and when it does, people are going to get hurt. If you hold this back and one of you dies, imagine what that’ll do to the other. You need to let him know.”

 

  
          That’s it, isn’t it. It’s exactly what Gerard’s been dreading to hear, but knows that he needs to. He pinches the bridge of his nose and shuts his eyes. His hand moves up his forehead and pushes his hair from his face, and he nods. “You’re right,” He says. “He’s been so stressed. I’ve never seen him this scared before. I’m just worried that a big confession like this would add to all that stress.”

 

  
          Lindsey pats his arm. “But wouldn’t it be a comfort to know that someone cares about you and is by your side through it all?”

 

  
          Gerard exhales a short laugh through his nose, and he turns back to the game. "That's really cheesy." He tells Lindsey. He starts to play again, thinking about all that needs to be said. How would he even confess? Ray's out right now, working to get more supplies, and they're all so packed with tasks to prepare for everything, that they hardly have time to sleep.

 

  
          Lindsey leans back against her game again, and she slips her hands into her pockets. She's seen this played out with humans over and over. They always get so worked up about the future, that they don't take the time to appreciate the present. It's ironic, considering how easily they die. She goes over to some fantasy game that's a reboot of a bad fantasy movie, and starts to play. She taps her fingers quickly against the buttons, pulling the joystick around where she needs. It is relaxing, in a strange way. She hears Gerard step next to her, and she smiles.

 

  
          "Thank you, Lynz. I needed this."

 

  
          Lindsey nods. "No problem. I bet I could kick your ass at a racing game after this."

 

  
          Gerard's eyes light up, and he grins wickedly at her. "You're on."

 

* * *

 

 

  
          Mikey's got a lot on his plate. His last priest just bailed on him, when realizing the exact details of the job Mikey was offering him. He's got a meeting tomorrow morning, and while he could be using this night to get some rest, he's stubborn, and needs a new priest.

 

  
          So he's busy.

 

  
          Mikey holds a briefcase in one hand while he walks down the street. He takes a right turn onto the next intersection, and then leans against the wall. He pulls out his phone to see a message.

 

 **  
[SMS Pete: 11:24PM]** r u busy?

 

  
          Mikey reads the message, and flips his phone's keyboard out, texting with one hand.

 

 **  
[SMS Mikey: 11:30PM]** not really. sup.

 

 **  
[SMS Pete: 11:31PM]** insanely bored, thats all. what are you doing?

 

 **  
[SMS Mikey: 11:33PM]** trying to find a priest. none of them even want to talk to me. but ill find someone, its good. how about you?

 

  
          He goes back to walking for a few blocks, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket a few times. What is it about Pete? He's a vampire, and not only that, but a new one. By all logic and reason, Mikey should be trying to kill him however he needs to. But he's not. He reads the messages while he walks, glancing between his path and his phone.

 

 **  
[SMS Pete: 11:34PM]** what kind of priest? and what are you trying to talk about?

 

 **  
[SMS Pete: 11:34PM]** i know a priest who might be able to help.

 

 **  
[SMS Pete: 11:35PM]** i never thanked you for that night. we'd be dead without you dude.

 

  
          Mikey slows to another stop, and he hisses out a curse from underneath his breath. He needs to get back to work, but a little part of him justifies that Pete is technically work. That makes him feel a little bit better about this.

 

 **  
[SMS Mikey: 11:39PM]** no prob, dude. just wanna help. send me the priests info via text. also where are you.

 

  
          Mikey makes his way towards the train, tapping into the station, and waiting for a train to go downtown. He looks around the station. It's not surprising that the place is pretty dead; Midnight on a weekday usually isn't so active, especially with humans.

 

 **  
[SMS Pete: 11:42PM]** uhh, im at the warehouse. why??

 

 **  
[SMS Mikey: 11:43PM]** awesome location description. lemme rephrase that. can you meet me at buckingham fountain in 20 minutes.

 

 **  
[SMS Pete: 11:44PM]** on my way.

 

  
          Mikey notes to himself how easy it is to get Pete to go somewhere with him.

 

* * *

 

 

  
          Pete lifts his head up from his phone and he smiles as Mikey approaches. He stands up, and pushes his hair back. "Hey, are you alright?” He asks, “That seemed really sudden." He's shorter than Mikey, which usually would make him feel like crap. But for one reason or another, he's fine with it. Pete follows Mikey as he walks towards the fountain.

 

  
          "I wanted to see you. Not text." He's looking up at the fountain, as it shoots out gallons upon gallons of water. The intricate array of statues stand perfectly still, and yet the water crashes around them.

 

  
          "I thought you said that talking made you nervous?" That's what Mikey said on their first call, right? Or is Pete completely fucking this up? He looks at the fountain as well, with less wonder than Mikey. He grew up here, it’s been a constant option for a weekend meetup over his history of summer breaks.

 

  
          Mikey shakes his head at Pete, still captivated by the water. "I don't like phone calls. I'm fine with seeing people in real life." He finally tears his gaze away from the fountain, and he looks down at Pete, to his hands. "How are the scars?"

 

  
          Pete blinks, and lifts his hands to show Mikey. They're still as gnarly and mangled as they were when Pete first got them, if only a little bit faded in the coloration. Pete shrugs as he turns them over.

 

  
          "Don't hurt, I can still feel. They're just ugly now. Pat says they won't go back to normal."

 

  
          Mikey inspects them, carefully taking Pete’s wrists into his hands. Mikey holds his hands close, eyeing the intricacies in the welts. They clearly mimic whatever chain Pete had used with the threading and braiding in tact. Mikey traces his fingers over one particular scar, and he nods.

 

  
          "I don't think we can get rid of the scars, but they're wicked cool."

 

  
          Pete swallows as he takes his hands back. He never thought of them as wicked or cool, but the way Mikey looks at them makes him think that they might be more than ugly reminders of what he is. He looks around the empty park. "So, why did you need me, exactly? Just to talk seems a little unlikely."

 

  
          "Well, that's the reason. I wanted to hang out with you." Mikey starts to circle around the fountain, looking at everything again. He doesn't notice Pete's gaze on him as he does so, or if he does, he doesn't care. Pete looks out to the lake, and pokes the tip of his tongue against his fang.

 

  
          "You don't want to talk to me about some mission? Or some horrible omen you had that means that you're going to die?"

 

  
          Mikey turns to look at Pete, and he's squinting with his chin tilted up to get a good look at Pete. "Why are those your go-to's, dude? You're cool, we're both stressed, and I like hanging out with you."

 

  
          Pete frowns, and he looks down to hide any blush that he has. Even in death, Pete's realized that he can still function in a mostly human way, for better or worse. He sighs, and it comes out more like a hiss. Mikey steps towards him, tilting his head down to meet his gaze with Pete.

 

  
          "You don't have to stay here if you don't want to. Do you want to be here--?"

 

  
          "Yes," Pete interjects, and he looks at Mikey. He sets his jaw. He nods, and speaks again. "Yes, I like hanging out with you. But you just seem really important."

 

  
          "So are you, dude."

 

  
          Pete sees the genuine expression painted on thick like oil on canvas, and he sighs again. The world is quiet around them, cars sound far away and the ever-crashing water against the fountain gives a nice white noise behind them. Pete can see Mikey's breath, manifested in steam on the cold air. He cracks a slight smile.

 

  
          "Thanks. Did you have anything in mind for hanging out?"

 

  
          Mikey mirrors the smile, and he moves to stand beside Pete, shoulder to shoulder. "Y’know, I'm not from around here. Think you can gimme a tour along the lake?"

 

  
          Pete's grin widens, and he comically links his arm with Mikey's. "It'd be my pleasure." He says, and they walk together. Pete points to the fountain. “So that’s Buckingham Fountain.” He states, trying his hardest to sound like a bonafide tour guide.

 

  
          Mikey snorts. “I know _that._ Tell me something cool about it.” He insists.

 

  
          “Alright, alright,” Pete thinks for a moment, and he soon realizes that he actually doesn’t know anything interesting about the fountain. So he shrugs. “Alright, so it’s big as fuck,” He starts, and he breaks into a string of chuckles when Mikey laughs. Pete wants to make Mikey laugh as often and wholly as possible, albeit for reasons he doesn’t yet fully comprehend.

 

  
          They walk down the lake’s shoreline, and Pete tells Mikey facts and stories about his past as they pass interesting landmarks. Mikey’s completely attentive and engaged in the stories. As the night wanes on, Mikey looks down at his phone, and he looks back to Pete.

 

  
          “How far are we from your place?”

 

  
          Pete looks to him, and raises a brow. “Uh, not too far, maybe like twenty minutes on the bus. Did you--?”

 

  
          Mikey nods, and he interrupts Pete. “The sun’s coming up. You should get home soon.”

 

  
          “Uh. Yeah.” That’s exactly where Pete’s mind went when Mikey asked how far away his house is. Absolutely. He looks for a nearby bus stop and then back to Mikey, giving him a sheepish grin. “This was fun, dude. We should do it more often.”

 

  
          Mikey smiles again, and it makes Pete ache. “For sure,” He says, and he pushes up his glasses with his middle finger. “I’ll text you. ‘Night, dude.”

 

  
          And Pete watches as Mikey goes off to the closest train stop, smiling like an idiot. He arrives home quicker than he originally anticipated, and waltzes right past Andy and Joe, a grin on his face. Pete shuffles into his makeshift coffin, pulling the doors down on himself. He grins widely. Out of everyone in the world to run into and to just click with, Pete didn’t expect an expert vampire hunter to be the one.

  
          For once, Pete likes that he’s wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deepest apologies for this delay; life gets busy sometimes and priorities get jumbled. Keep your hearts on the line for the next chapter, Nearly Witches! Thank you sooo much for everyone reading!


	10. Nearly Witches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick and Mikey make some friends. Albeit, not with each other.

            Patrick groans when he hears his phone vibrate on the table next to the couch. "Who the fuck..." He sits up and searches for his glasses with one hand, knocking over pencils and post-it notes while searching, and the other rubs the exhaustion from the corners of his eyes. He looks down at the text.

 

**[sms: mikey 6:40 am]** hey i got an idea

 

            Patrick draws his brows together. He looks around the warehouse to see where the others are. Pete's ‘bed’ hasn't been opened yet, and Patrick's guessing that it'll stay that way for the next twelve hours, at least. Andy and Joe are on their bunk bed, asleep like the dead. Patrick looks back at his phone.

 

**[sms: patrick 6:43 am]** what kind of idea???

 

**[sms: mikey 6:44 am]** about helping pete. meet me at bryn mawr

 

            Patrick frowns, and he dials to call Mikey. He ignores Mikey's heavy sigh, and speaks in a whisper. "Okay, you cannot just give me an address and tell me to go there with no fuckin’ context. What's this about? What do you mean?"

 

            There's silence on the line for a few seconds, then Mikey's reply. "I know some witches who are good with potions. Your blend isn't very effective. If we gave the baseline recipe to them, maybe they can perfect it. Also, there's something I need to tell you and them at the same time. Two birds, one stone. Trust me."

 

            The line cuts off suddenly, and Patrick looks at the phone in offense, as if the phone is the one that’s hung up on him. He exhales through his nose and pulls his ratty sneakers on. He grabs a Chicago flag trucker hat his mom gave him years ago and heads out.

 

            As he makes his way through the dawning streets of the city, Patrick sees mostly business commuters groggily step into their cars and onto buses. Early-opening cafes start to open like street lights, one by one as Patrick walks towards the train. The world feels just like Patrick in this moment; still half-asleep, disoriented, and above all, irritated that he has to be out this early. He taps his transit card onto the train station's scanner and steps onto the busy car. Patrick leans against the plexiglas divider, yawning.

 

            Truth be told, Patrick isn’t sure on how he feels about Mikey Way. While it’s true that he was the one to enlist in the other hunter’s help, Patrick can’t help but get a sense of superiority from the guy. Maybe it’s because he has more experience, technically. Maybe it's the fact that since Pete's transformation, he hasn't been kind to anyone in the group, and then this guy comes along, and suddenly Pete's getting better. Sure, that's why Patrick called for Mikey, so he shouldn't really complain. But he can't help but feel a low yet burning resentment in the fact that he managed to help Pete better and faster in a few weeks, against the months of Patrick's attempts that came up fruitless. Patrick won't admit to the idea that he's jealous of Mikey, because he isn't, he'd say. Still, something about Mikey Way plays off as suspicious, like he doesn't want anyone to know the full story. And anyone who works so heavily in secrecy and lies justifies a flag in Patrick's book.

  
  


            He'll stop to get coffee before he meets up with Mikey.

 

* * *

 

 

            Patrick steps off the train platform with a coffee in one hand, and a half eaten chocolate sprinkle donut in the other. It reminds Mikey of the most quintessential Chicagoan look.. The hat helps his case, that's for sure.

 

            "Are you sure this is going to work?" Patrick asks, taking a big bite of his breakfast. He washes it down with coffee (two creams, one sugar), and follows Mikey out of the station.

 

            The question Patrick asks makes Mikey laugh. He walks down the street in a stride, and notices that Patrick is power-walking to keep up. Mikey slows down his pace, as eager as he is to get to their destination.

 

            "If I did, I would've already done it. This is kind of our last ditch, dude."

 

            That doesn't seem to encourage Patrick, but then again, it's not very encouraging to Mikey. They walk. Nearly every other shop front displays dried herbs, tarot cards, candles, crystals, and other supplies that every witch needs in their daily life. Mikey looks down to his phone and types out a lengthy text with one hand, sighing.

 

            "You text a lot. Kinda makes you look like a loser."

 

            Mikey slides his phone shut, and slips it into his jacket's pocket. He looks forward, taking an even breath to keep himself in check. Mikey looks at Patrick, stone-faced for a moment and then a sardonic smile. "I'm currently trying to coordinate a meeting with a priest in the area so that your friend doesn't die or kill you. If you don't want me to do what you hired me for, just let me know."

 

            Patrick finishes off his coffee, throwing the cup and the wax paper from his donut into a passing trash bin. He shrugs with one shoulder. "I'd hardly say you even are, at this point. And he's your friend now too, at very least." Patrick doesn't look for Mikey's reaction, and keeps his eyes ahead at the strange neighborhood's streets.

 

            Mikey's smarmy smile falls, and he looks at Patrick to try and read what he could be implying. Frustratingly enough, he can't find anything. "Uh huh, and what's that supposed to mean?" He's curious now, as much as he hates to admit it. 

 

            "I gotta say," Patrick pockets his hands and grins, making Mikey even more angry. "You've got an interesting method for calming him down. You do that for all of them, or is he just special?"

 

            And Mikey hesitates in his next step, looking over at Patrick, only to be more ticked off when he sees him giving the most shit-eating grin he’s seen all week. Mikey huffs, feeling his face burn in anger and something related to embarrassment, and he shakes his head. "Fuck you." And he clenches his fists when he hears Patrick exhale a hissed out laugh. "I'm helping him out, and he's just a friend."

 

            Patrick nods. "Uh huh, and I'm a vampire too." He quips with a bitter edge. 

 

            Mikey sighs through his nose, and they arrive at the right shop. Mikey enters, looking around at all the dried herbs hanging from the ceiling on twain, at the mason jars filled with strange ingredients and oils that seem to shimmer and glow in the morning light. Bells jingle against the door as it opens, prompting the shopkeep to enter the floor from the back room.

 

            He’s young, but Mikey knows not to let his age dictate how capable he is. With soft looking brown hair, and even softer eyes, the young man raises his eyebrows at the pair. "Well, I gotta say. You weren't kidding about what time you were gonna be here. You're probably the earliest customers we've ever had. I'm Ryan, what seems to be the problem?"

 

            Mikey steps forward and extends his hand. He shakes Ryan's. "We've got a case of vampirism, and are wondering if there's anything you can do to keep him as human-like as possible. Patrick," Mikey glances over at him, "Can you tell him about the blend you've created?"

 

            Patrick had been looking all around the shop, at every which oddity and sundry item, and he blinks when Mikey so calmly speaks to him. It's like he's completely dropped the tense conversation they were having moments beforehand. He clears his throat, and steps forward as well. "Uh, well, it's basically animal's blood, garlic, and holy water, blended together. It keeps him acting like a human, and not like... Well, you know."

 

            "Uh huh..." Ryan looks Patrick up and down, then turns to one of his shelves. He starts rifling through dried herbs, squinting, and looking back to the pair every so often. "How long has he been?" He asks. Ryan takes a jar of something, unscrews it, and smells it. He puts it back with no explanation.

 

            "Fourteen months," Patrick answered. "It was the summer before this one." He shifts from one foot to the other. 

 

            Mikey takes a mental note of that. He sees another person step out from the back, and waves. He's taller than Ryan, with an dark toned quiff of hair. He smiles at Mikey and Patrick, walking over to a coffee machine in the corner of the room. He starts making a brew. "Heya, I'm Brendon. Salutations and welcome and whatnot." He yawns, ending it with a charming smile.

 

            "Hey," Patrick says. He crosses his arms. "So... You guys are witches? Isn't that for girls?"

 

            Ryan and Brendon both visibly hold themselves back from groaning or rolling their eyes. Ryan takes the first and more pressing issue with that question. "It's for dudes or chicks. It's just anyone who is a magic caster." And Brendon adds onto Ryan's thought train.

 

            "Also, we're  _ nearly _ witches. We're still in training for the next mont--" He stops himself when he sees how Ryan's glaring at him, then raises a brow. "Wait, you didn't  _ tell _ them that?" He asks.

 

            "I figured that was a need to know piece of information, Brendon." Ryan replies, harsh on every articulation of his words. He frowns, tight lipped, then looks at Mikey.

 

            Mikey nods. "Yeah. Seems like something I need to know. Are you gonna be able to help out, or?" He can find others, if he has to. But at this point, Mikey really doesn't want to. It's an interesting, and nice feeling; Being in an unfamiliar place, but still being the person in charge of the situation.

 

            Ryan sighs, and grabs a jar from the wall. "The last month of official witch training is all about conjuration, so we already know everything you need to have us know in regards to potions. Passed the course with flying colors." He assures Mikey, and he sets down the jar on the counter. "Your blend sounds good. But you're gonna need to up the percentages on the things that keep him at bay, lower the amount of actual blood, and add some more stuff to it for him. I'm gonna recommend hawthorne flowers, they're an easy way to get a vampire sedated enough that they'll act human for a while. And you're going to need a lot of this. Feedings at least twice a day."

 

            “Twice a day,” Patrick repeats, and he shakes his head. “Where am I going to get that much blood?” He asks out loud.

 

            Ryan waves a hand in dismissal. “Simple spell, liquid transformation.” He starts writing out a recipe for the improved blend, and brings it over to Brendon, who proof reads it. Brendon nods, tapping on the paper.

 

            “More garlic,” He mutters, and then looks to Mikey and Patrick. “It might not taste as good as the real thing, but it’ll be a good chance to see if the placebo effect works on vampires.” Brendon pours himself a cup of coffee, taking it black to start his day. “Mikes, you mentioned something else on the phone?” He takes a sip.

 

            Mikey nods, and steps over to the counter. He sets his briefcase down and opens it, pulling out three sheets of paper from the top compartment. He hands them out to Brendon, Ryan, and Patrick in that order. Mikey gives them their time to read through it. He quietly closes the case.

 

            After a minute, Patrick speaks. “What the fuck?”

 

            “Dude, you made an informational pamphlet about the apocalypse?” Ryan asks, somehow smiling.

 

            Mikey shakes his head. “I’ve been having to go around and tell a bunch of people about this. Got tired of repeating myself.” He admits. Sure, his brother and friends are having to do the same thing, and realistically, Mikey could give them the file for his nifty papers. But then, he wouldn’t be the super cool professional member of his group, would he? As they say, a magician never reveals his secrets.

 

            Brendon shakes his head. “You know, I’ve… Read about this, somewhere. And what I read had said that while they  _ would  _ be super powerful, they’d also still have full cognitive control of themselves. Are you sure you’re right about the whole, no control bit?”

 

            Mikey nods. “Absolutely. I’ve got several sources who were at the last one.”

 

            “Holy shit.” Brendon gives a low whistle.

 

            “Wait, wait, wait.” Patrick’s been frowning since he got the goddamned piece of paper. “Have you told Pete about this?” He’s asking Mikey, accusing him, and putting a free hand on his hip.

 

            Mikey opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. He quickly shuts his mouth, trying desperately to think of something to say and fast, so that Patrick won’t press on this issue here, with other people present. He’s not fast enough. He swallows.

 

            “Mikey, what the  _ fuck _ , how could you not have told him!” Patrick’s shouting which makes Brendon and Ryan both startle. They share a look between each other, then excuse themselves to the back room. 

 

            Mikey frowns, scrunching his nose up. “Dude, I dunno  _ how  _ to tell him. That’s not my place! I figured, like, you could tell him and your other friends, man. I dunno, it’s not…” Mikey sighs. “Not my place, man.” He wishes it was his place, but at the same time, a cowardly part of him is glad to push that responsibility onto Patrick.

 

            “Psh, as if.” Patrick rolls his eyes. “You’re just scared to do your job, and want me to do it for you.” He folds the paper up a few times and slips it into his jean’s pocket. “Whatever, man. Tell me when they get this new blend going. I’m going back to fuckin’ bed.” He shakes his head, turns, and leaves.

  
            Mikey watches him go, and he frowns. He waits for Brendon and Ryan to come back out, and wraps up with them. He thanks them for their work, promises to keep in touch, then makes his way back home. Mikey frowns on the train.  _ ‘I still need a fucking priest…’ _ He thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have... No excuse for this tardiness, other than the fact that I dislike Brendon Urie.


End file.
